Overwatch: The Final Hour
by The Strike Commander
Summary: Before Overwatch fell, there was a core team of agents whose heroic deeds would be immortalized for all time. This is the story of those heroes final days before their beloved organization was destroyed.
1. Chapter 1

"What did you just say?"

"I said I'm leavin'. I won't play along with your plans. Hell, the whole reason I left the Deadlock gang was because I thought things would be different here, but if that's the kinda show you're running, well, frankly I want no part in it."

Reyes leaned over his desk. "Let's get something straight here. 'We' are not Overwatch, and you are not the saint you're pretending to be. We are Blackwatch, and when the shit hits the fan, we're the ones hiding in the wings waiting to clean up the mess. That means we don't get to be proud; that means we have to get our hands dirty. You're a criminal, McCree, don't forget that. You should be relieved that you get to use your talents for the right cause rather than rot in some god-forsaken cell a mile underground. What we do here is necessary. The damn bureaucrats up top wouldn't last a minute without us doing their dirty work. Hell, this whole place would fall apart if it wasn't for us. So spare me your sappy words of remorse; we keep Overwatch alive."

McCree tilted his head down. "Do you really expect me to believe that? After everything? Covert operations and secrecy I understand. But torture? Undermining the leadership? Frankly, I'm not sure whose side you're on anymore. You sure as hell don't get along with Morrison or Ana these days. How can you just go behind their backs like this?"

Reyes chuckled. "I don't 'get along' with Morrison because he doesn't want to realize what has to be done to protect people, to protect Overwatch, to 'save the world'. When did you get so sentimental anyways?"

"I just realized who my friends are, and I don't feel like stabbing them in the back is the right move here." McCree got up and took his hat. "You don't care about people. It's always been about the power to you, and I won't fight on your side this time." He slid his hat on and stepped to the door.

Reyes looked up angrily. "What makes you think you can just walk out of here?"

McCree looked back. "I left everything in my office. Who's gonna stop me?"

There was silence for a moment. "Get out," Reyes gave one final order to his pet.

McCree stepped out of Gabriel's office and into the cold, empty tunnels deep beneath Overwatch's Swiss headquarters. McCree wondered if Reyes chose the drab style on purpose or if this was just another luxury that had been stripped away when Gabe was relegated to Blackwatch. At one time he had thought that the long, cement corridors were for intimidation and fanfare, but now he was uncertain of quite a few things. Luckily, he wouldn't have to suffer these halls any longer. With that McCree came to the massive steel elevator and began his ascent. Despite being in a top of the line facility, the elevator took a solid minute to reach the ground floor. The elevator was not defective; the distance between the ground and Blackwatch was simply that far. Now McCree would never have to ride that elevator again: that was true freedom. Though the circumstances saddened him a little, McCree was actually trying to spare all his friends a difficult hardship, even Reyes. Between Reyes and Morrison, McCree knew he would have to choose if he stayed. That was a choice he couldn't bring himself to make, but he couldn't stomach the thought of being branded a criminal again, so he had to leave. One last time he came to the door at the back of the complex.

A familiar voice greeted him. "Hello McCree," Athena chimed.

"Hello ma'am. Here to see Jack."

"Of course," Athena responded, "The commander is in his office; however, he has requested that I cease interposing between himself and the Overwatch agents. You may knock."

He knocked. "Eh, boss?"

"Yeah, come in." McCree slipped off his hat as he slowly opened the door. In his classic swivel chair sat Jack Morrison. "Just finishing up some paperwork." He said nose to the desk. "What's up?"

"Well, sir, I've got something to say."

Jack looked up from his work, and seeing the serious look on McCree's face, put aside his pen. "Have a seat." McCree readily accepted the invitation. "This must be serious," said Morrison, "You're not usually one to talk things out before hand."

Tightly grasping his hat, McCree nodded. "That's just it, sir. I'm leaving. Leaving Overwatch, I mean."

Jack sunk back into his chair. "Have you talked to Reyes about this?"

"Actually, I just got done talking to him."

"And?" Jack asked, "How'd he take it?"

McCree sighed. "About as well as I had hoped."

"Hmph," Jack snorted, "Well, I'll spare you the trouble of an argument. There's just the matter of surrendering your badge and all other forms of Overwatch id and…"

McCree chuckled. "Knew you'd try somethin' like this. But it's all taken care of; cleared out my office this morning."

Jack nodded. "Well, I guess that's everything, if you're sure?" The two men sat in silence for a moment. McCree and Morrison were probably more similar than either wanted to admit: both driven by devotion, honor, and morality. Though they did not always see eye to eye, McCree was undoubtedly one of Overwatch's best agents and Morrison one of his greatest mentors. Beyond that there was a certain kinship between them or, as Winston would say on occasion, they were "family". "It's been a pleasure, McCree." Jack extended his hand over the desk.

McCree tightly clasped his commander's hand. "Likewise, partner."

Jack laughed. "I'm going to miss those late night card games of yours."

"That reminds me." McCree reached into his pocket and then dropped a deck of cards on the desk. "Something to remember me by."

Jack lightly ran his hand over the stack. "Your deck."

"Figure I won't have much time for games while I'm on the move, so you should have 'em." McCree stood up and adjusted his hat.

"Will you go back to the States?" Morrison asked.

"Maybe." McCree said, "I hear there's plenty of companies looking for private security these days. I'm sure I'll find something." He stepped to the door.

"Hey," Morrison called after him. "I don't like saying goodbye to agents, especially ones in body bags." He sighed. "That's happening more and more these days." Both men looked downcast. "Take care of yourself, McCree. I don't want to do that for you."

McCree gently smiled saying, "Always have; always will." He opened the door. "See ya, Jack."

"Goodbye, Jesse."

Stepping out the door, McCree was greeted by the beautiful and venomous Ana Amari. "Ma'am," he said tipping his hat with his signature grin. "You'd better get in there. Think he's gonna need you."

"McCree, I hope you haven't been tormenting Jack with your games again."

McCree chuckled. "See ya' captain." With that he walked off to seek out his future.

Ana entered the Strike Commander's office as he was fawning over the deck McCree had just gifted him. "Did he beat you at cards again?" she asked, "Jack, you really shouldn't let him embarrass you like that."

Jack laughed quietly as he looked at a card in his hand. "I think he embarrassed himself more than me." He showed the card to Ana. "The jack of hearts; the jack of hearts was on top."

Ana snickered. "Funny."

"It's a nice change from all the gloom and doom around here," Jack said, "Anyways do you have a report?"

Ana's face took on a more somber appearance. "Another squad was lost."

Jack sunk into his chair, his face a mix of anger and grief. "Talon?"

"Well, no reports we've received have been conclusive."

"Of course," Jack sighed, "Ever since Gérard's death, it's like there hasn't been anything to stop them."

"They've grown more bold as of late," Ana said, "Perhaps too bold."

Jack looked up. "Oh no. Ana don't tell me you're thinking… If those plans fall into the wrong hands, there's no telling the kind of destruction that will follow!"

Ana bent over the desk. "And what will happen when there are none of us left to defend those plans, Jack!? This is our best option; it's our only option." Jack clenched his fists, his face to the desk. "Look, think it over. There's still time, and you've got an organization to run. Angela was calling for you."

"Dr. Ziegler?" Jack lifted his head, "What about?"

"Oh, I don't know," Ana sighed, "Probably another one of your bi-weekly checkups." She rolled her eyes.

"Hey!" Jack retorted, "It's not like I ask for the attention."

"Oh, please," Ana snickered, "You like being mothered by her and you know it."

"Sometimes I wonder why I accept this crap from you."

"Perhaps the soldier enhancements make it more exciting for you."

Getting up, Jack grabbed a jacket from his rack. "Alright, while I'm gone I have a new task for you. Find Genji and don't report back until you do."

Ana crossed her arms. "That's impossible. No one knows where he is; no one's seen him in near a month."

Jack shrugged. "So don't report back." He walked past his second in command and out of his office, leaving Ana to her bitterness.

A SHORT WHILE LATER...

* * *

Strike Commander Jack Morrison stepped into Overwatch HQ's medical wing. Though thoughts of dead field agents swirled in his mind, he knew he couldn't let that distract him from the choices he had to make regarding Overwatch secret project. Ana was certainly adamant that the plans were the key to drawing out Talon, but Jack wasn't ready to just lay such heavily guarded secrets on the table. With all the conflict and lost soldiers around him, Jack needed a diversion: something to escape if only for a moment. Certainly, Angela could provide such diversion.

Jack entered a large medical research room filled with odd bobbles and contraptions that only medical professional of the highest echelon could fathom. Off to one side several auspicious scientist stood, barely noticing the commander as he entered. Angela on the other hand was standing near the center of the room and immediately greeted him.

"I'm glad to see the commander actually heeded one of my calls today," Angela mocked.

"Sorry to disrupt the good doctor's time tables, but I've got a significant staff that needs attending."

"It's nice to hear your excuses," Angela snickered, "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me on purpose."

"Maybe I was," retorted the commander.

"But you weren't, as you said... which makes me think you're a little embarrassed of coming here."

Jack shifted. "Mercy stop."

Angela blushed. "Jack, don't call me that while we're not in the field."

"Okay doc."

"Stop."

"Make me."

"Alright, alright," Angela answered, "And then we'll check you out and make sure you're in top condition. Sound good?"

"I'm not sure these frequent checkups are good for my image," Jack said as he approached Angela, "People whisper, you know."

Angela prepped some medical utensils as she asked, "And what do they whisper? About us?"

"Oh yeah," Jack responded, "They talk about us like we're in love." Angela began by examining Jack's eyes. "They talk about how you administer medical attention for me so gently." Next, she examined his ears. "They talk about how I let you have free reign over the place like you're third in command." Then she examined his reflexes. "They talk about how we look at each other in the halls when we stop for a passing conversation."

"So," Angela said, "Everyone's already talking about us like we're a couple. Why don't you enjoy it a little?"

Jack snorted. "I don't mix work and pleasure."

"This place isn't work," Mercy laughed, "It's more like a family reunion that never ends but with weapons of mass destruction."

Jack let out something that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a grumble. "Why did you actually call me down here, Angela? I know it couldn't have been for the physical; had one too recently."

"Fine," she responded, relinquishing her tools, "A few Overwatch science officers I had never met before came to me, talking about radiation protection. They wouldn't go into any sort of detail with me; they just needed a significant amount of shielding. Now, radiation protection has never been my area of expertise, so I directed them to our large stockpile of military grade radiation equipment. However, these scientists insisted that preemptive measures had to be taken to reverse and repair unprecedented levels of radiation damage. For me, this would be a relatively simple project, but they refuse to tell me anything about the circumstances or sensitivities of the radioactive situation."

"Ah," Jack perked up, "So that's what this is about. Guess I should have expected this." He locked eyes with Mercy. "Fine. I trust you. Get your coat; we're going for a drive."

SOME TIME PASSED...

* * *

The standard Overwatch armored vehicle hummed as Jack drove deeper into the Swiss forest. The overhanging trees painted a beautiful canopy with their colorful foliage, but the only people around to admire the beauty were Jack and Angela, for miles around it seemed. The distance was a necessary precaution to guard the most dangerous secrets of Overwatch.

"Jack, where are we going?" Angela asked, "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to take me on a date."

Jack laughed. "We built this facility a few years back, off the books. We couldn't have anyone poking their noses around the secrets projects Overwatch had initiated."

Angela looked at Jack. "You mean spies?"

"Spies, Omnics, terrorists, government politicians: the kind of stuff Overwatch needed to hide could be valuable to all sorts and even more dangerous."

"So, whatever radiation these scientists need protecting from is emanating within this facility? You know, I'm rather surprised you never told me about all this." Angela said giving Morrison a stern gaze.

Jack glanced at her. "Sorry. These secrets are strictly need to know, not only for the safety of the secrets but for the safety of the agents who don't carry them. So long as nobody knows, nobody can leak a word of this. I certainly didn't want to put you in that kind of danger." Angela seemed happy with that answer. Looking through the curtain of trees, Jack could barely make out their destination. "There it is."

As they came around the final bend, Angela could see what looked like the shoddiest log cabin ever constructed by human hands. "It certainly looks like cutbacks have been made on the Overwatch construction teams," she said.

Jack smiled. "I think you'll change your mind on that pretty quick." Getting out of the car, he walked up to the entrance of the cabin, and Mercy trailed shortly after. The cabin door had a small, dirty window at head level. Jack showed his id through the window and some electrical buzzing could barely be heard from the other side. Then the door gradually swung open. Inside the entire cabin was made of reinforced metallic alloy standardized in most Overwatch facilities. They were greeted by no less than ten well-armed Overwatch operatives. The soldiers formed a pathway to an oversized elevator and saluted the Strike Commander as he passed.

When they came to the elevator, the soldier at the end of the line whispered something into Jack's ear. "What?" Jack stammered, "You're serious?" The soldier nodded. The elevator chimed as it arrived, and Angela stepped inside with Jack.

The steel doors sealed shut. "Something wrong?" Angela asked.

Jack grumbled. "Winston's been getting into trouble."

"What?" Angela exclaimed, "You put Winston over here, and you only just now told me about this place?"

"Winston is a crucial part of the team over here. Seriously, I don't remember you being so petty when we brought you on the Overwatch team."

Angela sighed. "Watching my life's work be transformed into the very things I swore never to create has done catastrophic things to my mental state."

"The weapons we've made with your nano technology are nothing compared to what could have been. Actually, you've been rather spoiled in that regard. Nobody in the UN is saying, 'Good job not weaponizing those nanomachines, Jack!' Meanwhile, I have to live the life of a human guinea pig, and everybody just takes that for granted."

"Don't act like that's so difficult for you!" Angela shouted, "I've seen you take blows that no normal human being should be able to withstand without flinching. Half the time you come back from missions with severe injuries that no man could walk upright with. You should be wheeled down to the medical station on a bed, but instead you walk in like nothing is wrong. Well, I'm here to say that whatever favors you might've done me aren't enough to repay me for having to witness your dying frame revived time and time again. Next time just do yourself the favor and save all your honor and duty for someone else."

Morrison turned to her, surprised by her outburst. Angela's face appeared bitter, but her eyes told a different story. Jack placed a hand on her arm. "Angela," he whispered.

Just then the elevator came to a stop. The steel doors opened to reveal Winston pressing his glasses onto his face. "Hello there, s…" Winston said, "Uh, um, I, uh… should I… maybe I'll just, I should go."

Jack turned to his monkey friend. "No, actually, you're just the person I wanted to see."

"Oh, really?" Winston chuckled happily, "I'm at your service, sir."

Jack smiled. "Did you bring an uninvited guest into the facility?"

"Uh…" Winston stammered, "Oh! I get it. It's a joke right? Because I couldn't bring anyone I didn't invite into the facility anyhow. Haha! Very funny, sir."

Jack shrugged. "Actually no. What I meant was, I know you brought unauthorized personnel into the lab, and I want you to cooperate with me so that I don't have to strangle the both of you myself."

Angela grabbed Morrison's shoulder. "Jack," she said, "I'm sure whatever Winston has done, he meant well by it." Winston nodded quietly "Let's not get carried away."

Jack sighed. "Alright. Where is she?"

"Uh, in the core."

"What?" Jack exclaimed, "Winston, nobody goes into the core! Not until we have the proper protection framework up and running. I swear, I'm gonna switch all your peanut butter jars with mayonnaise."

Winston gasped. "No! You wouldn't."

"I just might," Jack said with a grin, "Let's hope for your sake that she hasn't broken anything." The three of them walked down the long corridor into an overlook station. Beyond the overly complex control panels and screens and through the reinforced glass panes, one could see a giant metal sphere that looked like the final form of an octopus: that is to say there was a ludicrous amount of tubes and wires stretching from beneath and from the sides into the sphere.

Angela was overwhelmed by the spectacle of it. "Amazing. Is this what all the fuss is about?"

"That," Winston stated, "is the reactor core."

"The researchers seem to think we're closing in on stable, cold fusion," Jack added.

"You're kidding?" Angela chirped, "You're hiding away possibly the greatest scientific achievement in the history of mankind, not to mention the humanitarian value."

"Yes," Jack stated, "And if the project goes wrong it's the most powerful nuclear bomb in history. Despite the distance Overwatch HQ would be leveled."

"But that's not going to happen," Winston continued, "Not while we're here."

Jack sighed as he gazed out the window. "Well, we'll see what Lena has to say about that." Although the chamber below was relatively muted, the characteristic blue flashes of light trailed the ever-curious Lena Oxton around as she examined every bobble and wireframe in the facility. It didn't take her long to return.

Tracer zipped into the room. "Winston, this place is amaz…" She notice the perturbed Strike Commander and Dr. Ziegler standing to one side. "Uh oh," she muttered.

"Lena, this is unacceptable conduct from you. You're one of my best agents, and here you are breaking all Overwatch protocol. I'm disappointed in you; in both of you." Jack looked to Winston.

Tracer flipped her hair. "Ah, come on dad. It was just a little violation."

Winston began to chuckle, but Morrison shot him a stern look. "Tracer, that's not funny," Jack replied.

"Well," she snickered, "It kind of is." Jack glared at her disapprovingly. "Ah, rubbish, it is funny. C'mon mom, tell grumpy Jack that he doesn't understand good humor!"

Angela, who had been trying to stay out of Morrison's reprimanding conversation, turned to Tracer. "Yes, you're quite right, love. But due to your recent behavior as our daughter, I believe it's in your best interests if you move closer to home so we can keep an eye on you."

Tracer looked on in amazement. Regaining her composure, she slowly walked over to Morrison. "Yep, I…" Lena patted Jack's chest. "I think you were right," she said in the most melancholy tone, "It's not funny at all." She smiled eagerly at Jack as if nothing had happened.

"Forget it," Jack sighed, "I don't have time to deal with you jokers. Angela, what's your analysis? Do you think you can protect the agents here?"

"Well, I'll need to examine the facility further," Mercy said, "But as I said, it shouldn't be a difficult task."

"Then I'll give you the tour," Jack said. Then the pair went on to examine the facility.

After the two ranking members of Overwatch had moved onward. Winston turned to Tracer. "Phew," he sighed, "that was close."

"It wasn't so bad," Lena cried, "I had the whole situation under control."

"Right," Winston mocked, "I don't think making Commander Morrison more irritated is what I would call 'under control'."

"Oh, they're practically a couple already," Lena shrugged, "I was just givin' 'em a shove in the right direction."

"Ya know, I don't think that's any of our business," Winston said.

"Oh, you're no fun at all," Tracer lamented.

"Ahem," Winston straightened himself, "May I remind you that you are in a secret Overwatch facility you had no idea existed less than three hours ago."

Tracer pouted. "Yeah, whatever."

Just then angry shouts could be heard just outside the overlook. "Blasted mechanical servos! My grandma was slicker than you, and she had a beard!"

"Uh oh," Winston chimed, "I know that voice."

A stout Swedish man came teetering in yelling, "Winston! I don't know who gave you these darn machines, but they aren't worth half what was paid for 'em. No good industrialized tech."

"I'll look into it, sir."

Torbjörn grumbled away. "Good. Make sure to tell Morrison not to listen to those omnic merchandisers anymore."

"I'll make sure it's taken care of," Winston consoled him.

Torbjörn continued his grumbling, but then noticed Tracer sitting downcast in the corner. "Ah, what's wrong with her?"

"Nothing's wrong!" Lena moaned.

Winston looked at his saddened friend. "She's upset because Morrison isn't very happy with our breaking of protocol."

"Ah, I see," Torbjörn responded, "Well, ya know what I always say: don't…"

"Get caught with your beard in the letterbox," Winston and Tracer both replied.

"Yes, we are both very familiar with your famous advice, Torbjörn," Winston said.

"Oh, ya are?" Torb perked up, "But ya didn't follow it."

"Oh, leave me be Torby," Tracer cried.

"Ah, cheer up kiddo," Torb chuckled, "Morrison's an intimidating fellow, but deep inside I think he's got a soft spot for people like us. Especially after bringing that Dr. Ziegler on board."

"Oh, dear," Winston mumbled.

Tracer leapt up. "See!" she exclaimed, "Torby knows what's going on!"

"My, friend," Winston said to Torb, "You have no idea what you've started."

Torbjörn laughed. "Well, as long as I helped."

"C'mon Winston," Tracer urged, "You saw the way they were looking at each other. I bet they were totally about to make a bunch of little baby heroes in the elevator." She pinched her fingers together in front of her eye.

Winston burst into laughter.

Torbjörn scratched his head. "Ya know… Lena, are you feeling okay?" Tracer gave Torby an inquisitive look. "You seem a little out of whack."

"You have been rather excitable lately," Winston agreed.

"Ugh," Tracer slumped over, "It's just so boring around here. Jack doesn't want us getting into trouble with Talon, but I have nothing to do without missions."

"Sorry, I'm so boring to you," Jack said as he enter the room.

Lena sighed. "Sorry, Jack."

"Well, it seems you've wriggled your way into another assignment," Jack said, "Now that you're in on the secret, Winston and Torbjörn need some help speeding up construction here."

"Oh, yes!" she exclaimed, "Finally, an assignment! I won't let you down, sir." She gave a little salute.

"I know," Jack looked around, "I'm counting on you guys. This is Overwatch's most critical project."

"Despite the working conditions," Torbjörn said, "I think we might build something worthwhile."

Jack nodded. "The sooner we start testing the sooner we can move on to other matters."

"Oh?" Tracer cocked a smile, "It sounds like you're planning something, Jack."

"Mhmm," he confirmed, "And as soon as I know the reactor works, I'll put that plan into motion."

"Now you've got me curious," she replied.

"Luckily, you aren't telepathic," Jack retorted, "You'll just have to wait and see."

"We'll be hard at work until then," Winston said. Jack nodded, leaving them to their task.

It was a mere week before the Overwatch crew had the fusion reactor up and running despite Torbjörn's constant complaining that nothing in the "infernal place" was properly working. Initial tests indicated that power levels would exceed their estimates; indeed, the reactor could be the most important creation in human history. Supposedly, it could power the entire earth no less than three times over. These things weighed on Jack's mind as he once again sat in his office.

Overwatch was not becoming stronger. Since Talon was constantly interfering in Overwatch operations, mission success rates were at their lowest since the Omnic Crisis. Standard Overwatch operatives were dropping left and right; Meanwhile, Jack felt like the core roster had been cut in half. With Reinhardt forcibly retired and McCree gone, the list of people Jack could trust was shortening, and Reyes undermining his authority certainly wasn't helping. He felt like he had to do something, anything, to tip the odds back in Overwatch's favor. Jack called Ana into his office.

"There's no way I'm going to release the plans to anyone outside Overwatch," Jack said.

"Jack," Ana said, "You can sit there as long as you want, but we need leads on Talon, and this is how we get them."

Jack shook his head. "No. I've got a better plan. We'll stage a ceremony. Invite all the UN reps: bring the Overwatch science division. We'll tell the public it's a celebration of Overwatch's work and reveal of our greatest achievement to date."

"So you are unveiling the reactor?" Ana asked.

"No," Jack responded, "Just the concept. There won't be any technical data to speak of. But I'm betting we don't even get that far into the meeting before Talon strikes."

"Because all the Overwatch agents are there," Ana concluded.

"Because all the agents are there: all the scientists are there: all the UN reps are there, in one low security facility. But that means Talon won't be expecting a well armed Overwatch task force hiding in the woodwork." Jack got out of his chair. "This is our shot: our one opportunity to catch Talon on the front lines. If we fail, Talon will be the least of our worries."

"I'm impressed, Jack," Ana lauded, "You finally live up to your title."

"I'm glad you think so," Jack said, "because I'm giving you lead on the strike team."

"What?" Ana stammered, "You're not going to be there?"

"Oh, I'll be there," Jack said with a smile.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack Morrison stepped out of the limousine dressed in a black suit with a bowtie. Immediately, he was surrounded by his cohorts. A short distance away the shouting of reporters asking for statements and the flashing of cameras could be heard. Jack drew his comrades in for a final reminder of the mission. Among the squad were some of his closest friends including Tracer, Winston, Torbjorn, Dr. Zeigler, and Gabriel Reyes who looked rather displeased to be here. "All right, team, remember why we're here," Jack said, "Inside it may look like a fancy party with a bunch of civilians in suits, but our objective comes before those formalities. Intelligence says that there has been increased Talon chatter thanks to this meeting, and that means we have a crucial task to protect these people and break Talon. Remember, we're not here for the celebration; we're all soldiers now, got that?."

"Roger that! Captain Jack!" Tracer chimed.

"We'll do our, best," Wiston added, "These people are counting on us."

"We won't let ya down, Jack," Torb confirmed.

Reyes groaned at the team's campy demeanor. "Can we just get inside? I need a drink."

"Ah, Reyes!" Torb called, "Shall we see who can down the most drinks over the night?"

Dr. Zeigler interjected. "You two need to be careful not to overdo it at a time like this."

"She's right," Jack concurred, "But I wouldn't want you acting out of character either."

Reyes just moaned in disbelief and then walked into the venue. "What's with Mr. grumpy pants tonight?" Lena asked, "He used to be so cool, but now he's just dead inside."

"I heard that." Everyone could hear Reyes through their ear pieces.

"Oops," Lena said, "Sorry, love."

"We'd better not stand around any longer," Jack added, "Let's get inside."

"Oh, yes!" Lena cried, grabbing onto Winson, "Winston, you have to help me try all the orderves! And Torby, you've got to introduce me to all your old friends from the guild."

Torb sighed. "Maybe after a few drinks." The three of them walked in together.

Mercy was about to follow after them when Jack tugged on her arm. She turned to him, expecting Jack to say something profound. Jack hit the switch on his ear piece to disable communication. "You look lovely tonight," he said. Angela blushed. She was wearing the most delicate cream colored dress, and despite the occasion wore it quite well.

Mercy switched off her own ear piece. "Really? I feel rather displaced at the moment."

"I half expected you to be wearing some doctor's uniform," Jack said, "I'm impressed you pull this off so well."

Angela gave a heaving sigh. "I feel like I'm going to fall apart any second now." She wobbled a little, as if she suddenly became light headed.

"Are you alright?" Jack asked. Then Mercy nearly toppled over. Jack barely caught her in his arms. "Angela, are you okay?"

"I… I'm fine," she stammered, "I don't know what came over me. I'll have to examine myself when I get back to…" Angela looked up. Their faces were mere inches apart. "...the lab." Knowing the place they were in, she tried to look away, but she could not. Staring into Jack's eyes, Angela saw a man devoted to upholding truth, justice, and morality: something she admired deeply.

Jack was equally entranced. Seeing Angela, he witnessed something that he could not be: merciful. Her ability to care for the lowest dregs of humanity went beyond Jack's potential. He saw threats to be eliminated; she saw humanity to be redeemed. Though Jack did not always think that terrible souls were worth saving, he had a profound appreciation of the quality in Angela. His mind was racing. There were too many diverging pathways to consider. This was neither the time nor the place for Jack to manifest sudden attachment, yet the way laid open. Everything was quiet. Even the reporters had gone silent, hoping to get a good shot of what came next. This brought the cynical Jack to the surface. He helped Angela to her feet. "Do you think you can walk?" Mercy nodded, her face downcast. "I'll see you inside," he said, releasing her hand, "I just need a minute." She smiled faintly and walked into the building.

Jack straightened himself. He breathed heavily attempting to regain his composure. Then a voice chirped in his ear. "Jack," Ana called. Somewhere on a distant rooftop, Ana was perched in the dark with other Overwatch operatives.

Jack turned on his piece. "Go ahead, Ana."

"You know," she went on, "my rifle has a sound amplifier on it." Jack fidgeted nervously. "But I didn't need it to see what was going on between the two of you."

"Now's not really a good time, Ana," Jack said begrudgingly.

"Time is never good," Ana responded, "It's what you do with the time that makes it good."

"Yeah, well, talking to me about this right now is not a good use of time," Jack countered.

"That's right," Ana said, "There's not much time left, Jack. In this line of work, we live and die at a moment's notice, so you had better hurry up and live, Jack."

Jack grunted. "Thanks for the advice, but I'm not meant for that life."

Ana sighed. "Alright, moving positions. You go enjoy the party."

With that Jack entered the venue. As he stepped into the auditorium, he looked over the huge crowd of officials, comrades, and professionals. The event was a momentous occasion, but Morrison couldn't help but feel a sense of dread knowing Talon was on the move. He would have to distract himself with the mission. He knew the truth; however, he couldn't make irrational decisions because of fear. Jack lost his train of thought when a familiar voice called to him.

"Commander Morrison," an older gentleman approached, hand extended, "It's been a while."

Morrison readily took the hand. "Representative Petras," Jack recognized the UN official, "Glad you could make it."

"Well," Petras said, "We owe Overwatch so much these days, I really couldn't miss." Jack smiled, and then he heard a small whimper emanate from behind the representative's back. Petras glanced behind himself. "Oh!" he exclaimed, "This is my daughter, Celia." He revealed a tiny girl from behind. "She wouldn't let me go without bringing her along to see all the heroes."

Jack chuckled as he knelt down to get eye to eye with the girl. "So you wanted to meet the Overwatch agents, huh?" Celia nodded as she clung to her father's pant leg. "C'mere," he said with a wave. Celia reluctantly stumbled forward. "My name's Jack," he took the little girl's hand and shook, "I know all the Overwatch agents."

"You do?" Celia asked.

Jack nodded. "Let me show you." He spun the girl around and began pointing out his friends one by one. "See that one," he asked. Celia nodded. "That's Winston: he's one of Overwatch's chief scientists, and he's the smartest monkey I know."

"I like him," Celia added.

"Yeah, Winston is great," Jack said. He looked more intently at Celia. "Do you like peanut butter, Celia?" A huge grin came over Celia's face. She nodded. "Well Winston loves peanut butter. I bet if you eat your peanut butter when your daddy makes you a sandwich, you'll grow up to be really smart, just like Winston. Would you like that?"

"Yes," Celia responded. Petras looked on at Jack admonishing his agents. The way his little girl's face lit up brought him joy.

Jack nodded. "Well you might have to wait. There's quite a few more agents here." He surveyed the room while Celia smiled with delight. "Look there. See that one, on the other side of the tables?" Celia nodded. "That's Torbjörn. He's a short little guy, but his contraptions tower overhead like giants. Better not get him riled up though; he's got enough temper for all of us."

"He sounds funny," Celia remarked.

"He says some funny things," Jack concurred, "Actually, you're about his size." Jack patted the girl's head. "I bet he'd like you. I'll introduce you, later." Celia nodded. "Hmm, let's see," Jack mumbled as his eyes danced over the room. "Oh! There see that one?" Celia giggle with excitement. "That's Lena."

"Tracer,' Celia corrected.

"Yep, that's what we call her while in the field," Jack said, "But I'd bet she'd really like it if you call her Miss Lena."

"Okay," Celia agreed.

"Now," Jack continued, "Do you know what Lena's powers are?"

"She goes fast," Celia said joyfully.

"She does go fast," Jack said, "In fact, she goes so fast time can't even keep track of her, and sometimes, when she makes a misstep, she can go even faster, backwards."

"Whoa!" Celia cried.

"Yeah, it's pretty cool."

"Who's that?" Celia asked. She pointed right to Dr. Ziegler.

"Oh, that's Angela," Jack said, "She's our medic, so when we're in the field, she keeps us from getting hurt. She keeps us going so we can protect you."

"She's pretty," Celia said, cooing over Mercy's elegant appearance.

Jack nodded. "Yes, she is." Seeing Angela happily conversing and laughing made Jack think of how things might have been: how his life could have went if he hadn't been chosen for this duty. But he couldn't wander in thought for long.

"Keep going," Celia urged.

"Okay," Jack said with a laugh, "I see one over there, at the bar." Celia stretched up onto her tippy-toes as she struggled to follow Jack's gaze.

"Oh! I see him," Celia cried.

"That's Gabriel Reyes," Jack said, "He commands Overwatch with me."

Celia shot Morrison a strange look. "So, what is your ability?"

Jack responded with a dull yet obvious answer. "Me? I lead Overwatch: I make sure everyone does their jobs."

Celia look curiously at Jack. "So," she said, "You're like a soldier. You take care of the agents and keep them safe." Her eyes widened as she waited for Jack's response.

"Yeah, something like that." Jack smiled. Celia suddenly wrapped her arms around Jack's neck and hugged him. Surprised, Jack reluctantly returned the embrace.

She pulled back and asked, "Will you introduce me to your agents?"

Jack couldn't help but laugh as he caught the girl's contagious excitement. "Of course," he said, standing up. He took the Celia small hand in his own. Petras made no motion to stop them but beamed with happiness.

Meanwhile, Torbjörn was attempting to dilute himself before confronting any of the suits. He walked up to the bar and straddled the seat next to Reyes. Torbjörn looked at him, but Reyes paid him no heed. Gabe was just blankly staring ahead as he sipped some fermented drink.

Having no patience for Reyes games, Torbjörn broke the silence. "Ya know, Reyes, there's somethin' I've been meanin' to ask ya." Reyes abruptly brought his glass onto the counter but did not avert his gaze. "I've been wonderin' why you've been so staunchly opposed to Jack's plans these past few months. A little strife between the commanders is one things, but lately you haven't seemed agreeable at all."

Reyes turned his stony eyes to Torb. "Are you saying that I should agree with everything Morrison does? Well, I'm tired of following orders, dwarf. I'm not going to play by the rules."

Hearing Reyes calloused remark, Torb was aggravated. "Well, maybe if you didn't spend all your time in Overwatch's basement, you wouldn't be so darn ignorant."

Reyes barely had time to take another sip of his drink before responding. "You make me sound like an angsty teen. Things aren't so simple. Pretty soon Jack's going to have to make a call that he can't accept, and then we'll see who's the able leader."

Reyes and Torbjörn were locked in a dead stare. Given the two men's dispositions, the argument might have ended in a fight had Winston not approached. "Hello there, gentlemen."

Reyes glanced at the monkey. "Excuse me," he said, sliding out of his chair and walking off.

Puzzled, Winston watched Reyes walk away. "Something the matter between you two?" he asked.

"Ah," said Torbjörn, "Nothin' to be concerned about." Torb looked down at the counter. There was an empty glass before him, but he wasn't sure he wanted to drink. He ran his fingers over the rim.

Winston cosied up next to Torb. "Are you alright, Torbjörn? You seem rather sad."

Torbjörn sighed. "It's just not the same without my drinkin' buddy."

Just then, a familiar voice called to them. "Greetings, gentlemen!" Reinhardt came between the two and squeezed them tightly. "You're looking rather well dressed this evening."

"Haha. Hello, sir," Winston said.

"Reinhardt!" Torbjörn shouted, "I didn't know you would be here!"

Reinhardt released the pair. "A celebration of Overwatch's work: I wouldn't miss it for the world!" Reinhardt bellowed, "And I always take an opportunity to see my friends."

"Ah, it's been too long!" Torb said.

"Yes," Reinhardt agreed, "Too long since you've worn that suit, my friend. Just look at all the dust." Reinhardt made a brushing motion across Torb's suit.

"Why, you!" Torb exclaimed, "At least what I wear doesn't smell like unwashed gym socks!"

"Uh," Winston stammered, "I'm just going to leave now."

Reinhardt and Torbjörn had entered a new staring contest. "Torbjörn, I think there's only one way to settle this!"

"Hah!" Torbjörn smirked, "A drinking contest? Why challenge me when you always lose?"

Reinhardt gave a mighty laugh at Torb's jest. "We will just have to see about that!"

Winston, in the meantime, got some distance between himself and the men's antics. As he looked over the room, Winston saw many smiling faces; people seemed very happy to be reunited with earth's greatest minds and defenders. He approached Tracer, who was eagerly gobbling up some orderves.

"Ah, Winston," Tracer said through a full mouth, "You have to come try some of these… What are these?" Lena looked to the waiter who held the tray of treats on picks.

"Boules de fromage," said the waiter with a light accent.

"Oh, yeah, that!" Tracer chimed, "It's like I've never had food this good in my life."

Winston adjusted his glasses. "I think he just said those are cheese balls."

Tracer gulped, but her cheeks were still puffed out. Heartbroken, she looked from the tray to the waiter. "Seriously?" she whimpered. The waiter nodded. Lena reluctantly returned the cheese she held in her hands.

"Hey," Winston intervened, "At least you're not addicted to peanut butter."

At this Lena seemed to cheer up a bit, and then Angela get their attention. "Winston, there you are," Mercy said, "I wanted to ask you something."

Winston smiled. "I'm at your service."

"I was wondering what exactly you'll be showing here tonight," Angela said.

"Well," Winston said, "Commander Morrison asked me to prepare a little speech about the reactor." Angela nodded. "But he also said there was a significant chance I wouldn't be giving that speech."

"Ah," Angela sighed, "Well, I suppose congratulations are in order either way."

"Ya! That's right!" Tracer shouted, "Winston's outdone himself once again!"

Winston chuckled. "Well, I certainly couldn't have done it without both of your help."

Just then a lady approached the podium at the front of the auditorium and spoke through the sound system. "Attention everyone," she said, obviously quite excited, "We'll be starting the event shortly. As you can see we've reserved seats around the room for each of you, but other than that feel free to sit anywhere. If you would please make your way to a seat, that would be great! Again, we'll be starting shortly. Thank you all for coming, and please enjoy the evening."

"It sounds like the presentation is about to begin," Winston said.

"Do you know what's in the presentation, love?" Lena asked.

"Hmm," Winston thought a moment, "I believe it starts with an honorific message and then a ranking officer will get things started."

Lena bubbled with excitement. "Oh, this is gonna be wicked!"

Angela laughed. "We'd better get to our seats before they begin."

After a quick examination of the room, the group found their way to a semi-circle, half booth table. "Well, this certainly seems like a nice spot," Winston remarked.

"Ah, yeah!" Tracer exclaimed, "We can sit back, relax and have a great view of the shenanigans."

"Um, excuse me." Tracer glanced around looking for the interjector when she felt a tug on her leg. "Miss Lena?" Tracer looked behind her to see the source of the little voice. Big green eyes stared up at her from the timid face of this tiny girl. She nervously hid her hands behind her back as she said, "Hi. My name's Celia."

Tracer was completely infatuated. "Awwww," Lena moaned in delight, almost seeming to struggle for air. "Oh my God! You're so cuuuute!" She knelt down and began pinching the girl's cheeks. Celia giggled happily.

"I think Lena has made a new friend, Winston," Angela said. They both smiled.

Tracer was stretching Celia's face out thoroughly. Soon, Celia was pinching back, taking Lena's face with both hands. They were both laughing and making strange, befuddled noises with their mouths. Eventually they stopped, and Celia said, "You're really pretty, Miss Lena."

Traced cooed. "I think you look pretty too, Celia. Now c'mere." She drew the little girl in for a hug; their faces mashed together like two lumps of dough.

"I see you two are getting along," Jack said as he approached.

"Have you met my new best friend, Celia, Jack?" Lena asked.

"Yep. I promised to introduce her to the agents."

"Oh!" Lena went in for another hug, "Can we keep her Jack?" Celia laughed. "Pleeeease?"

Jack chuckled. "Just for tonight," he conceded.

"Yay!" Lena and Celia both screamed with delight.

"You have to sit next to me, love!" Tracer cried. Celia nodded. The agents began taking their seats. Celia slid in so that she was seated between Angela and Tracer.

"You know," Angela remarked, "I don't think I witnessed Lena's true power for affection until today."

"Don't worry, love," Tracer responded, "You and the Overwatch crew will always have a special place in my heart." She placed her hand over her chest.

Angela laughed. "Well, so long as you don't rub this girl's face raw, I think I can live with that."

"Ooooh!" Tracer cried, "But she's so cute!"

The pair's silly displays of affection went on for some time. Eventually things began to stagnate as they realized the event still had not begun. Tracer was getting anxious, but Celia was happy to have the agents in such close proximity.

Celia looked curiously at Mercy. "Your name's Angela, right?"

Angela smiled. "It is, but most people call me Dr. Ziegler."

"So you are a doctor?" Celia asked, "Do you take care of the Overwatch agents when they are hurt?"

"That's right," Angela responded, "I make sure everyone is healthy and keep them from harm."

"So you're like the agents' mommy?" Celia prodded.

"Uh, well," Mercy said awkwardly, "I suppose so. We're like a family in Overwatch, and it's my responsibility to keep everyone alive and well."

"So," Celia continued, "if you're the mommy, is Jack the daddy?"

All coloration left Angela's face. Lena was suddenly paying very close attention and a huge grin overtook her face. Winston, on the other hand, could only awkwardly look away. Jack just laughed. "Ya know, Celia," he said, "You have a funny way of thinking about things."

"What's so funny about it?" she asked.

Jack smiled. "I just didn't think you would understand the workings of Overwatch so plainly." Jack knelt his head in disbelief. "Angela and I are a team; we have a duty to protect and enrich the lives of our agents. They are like our children. We care about the agents, and we do everything we can for them, just like your mommy and daddy love you and would do anything for you. So to answer your question, yes, we are the caretakers of Overwatch." Angela sighed with relief while Tracer sighed with indifference.

Once again the lady spoke from the podium. "Uh, thank you for your patience everyone. Sorry for the delay. We had some technical difficulties, but we're ready to begin now! First a short presentation on the legacy of Overwatch!" She stepped aside, and the curtains behind parted to reveal a screen. The lights dimmed, and the Overwatch insignia was projected on screen.

Elsewhere, the evening was not so thrilling. Ana's mission was an important one although joyless. She attempted to occupy herself with vigilance. The streets glistened in the city lights, and the moon sparkled on a cloudless night. Despite the spectacular scenery, all was quiet, save for the occasional report from one of her squad. Ana couldn't help but contemplate the circumstances. She understood how critical this mission was to Overwatch. The terrorist organization Talon certainly wasn't a handful of revolutionists playing in the backyard with firecrackers. Ana knew Talon was far more deadly and precise, yet Overwatch knew so little about the organization. That was the most terrifying part: fighting an enemy that was indecipherable. It seemed that Talon knew Overwatch's every move, but Talon was a ghost. Whoever or whatever was at the head of this terrible organization was brilliant and had unprecedented access to resources. Nevertheless, Ana was not one to be intimidated by secretive foes. Things were much the same during the Omnic crisis. The Omniums after all were learning, self-improving factories, churning out increasingly advanced machinery until their hibernation. The original Overwatch strike team had faced these threats fearlessly.

Although the Omnic crisis was a terrible tragedy, Ana longed for those simpler days. Now everything was muddied with bureaucracy and red tape. That life was easy, operating from warzone to warzone, but life had quite a few more roadblocks nowadays. Overwatch was restricted by governments around the world; keeping the peace turned out to be its own worst enemy. Talon could easily disable Overwatch activity while unhindered by laws or jurisdictions, yet no government would declare martial law just for a few "minor" incidents.

As she examined the city streets through her scope, Ana sighed. It seemed like just yesterday she was joking around with Reinhardt, Reyes, Morrison, and Torbjörn after a victory against the Omnics. Then the bigwigs came, slapped some badges on their chests, and now everything was different.

Then Ana's well tuned senses detected the faint humming of an engine. She looked around, scouring the streets for any sign of the vehicle. As it approached, Ana realised that the noise wasn't coming from the ground but from the sky. She looked up, her vision darting across the sky for the blurred outline of an aircraft. She caught sight of what looked like a helicopter enshrouded in the night. As the chopper flew overhead, Ana zoomed in with her rifle scope. Surveying the helicopter she noted the distinct number on the side.

 _Just a news helicopter,_ she thought. Ana lowered her rifle and paused for thought. There certainly was something unusual about a news helicopter flying at this time of night, but this certainly was a momentous occasion. Ana considered the possibilities for a moment. _Better check in with Jack._

Ana tapped the device in her ear. "Jack? What's your status?"

No response.

"Jack?" she called out again.

Nothing.

Ana was very tense now. Jack would have responded immediately, lest the circumstances forbid it. However, Ana didn't hear a peep of anything: no static, no muffled voices, no cross chatter, nothing. Talon could very well have jammed communications.

 _Well,_ Ana reasoned, _at least we planned ahead._ Ana pulled out a small pocket device with a single button on the top. The device was meant to be an immutable communicator. With one press Jack would receive the signal and realize something was amiss.

 _Fwoosh!_ A noise erupted from behind Ana. Ana barely managed to evade an incoming missile, the explosion rocking her and lighting up the roof. Shots rang out. Ana could hear other agents shouting. She reached for the communicator, but she had seemingly lost it in the blast. Meanwhile her squad was getting shot at from multiple directions. Ana readied her rifle. Things were certainly heating up.

Within the venue, no one had the slightest inclination of what was happening without. After the short introductory video had ended, a gentleman approached the podium to introduce the first speaker of the night. Everyone knew someone with a deep history with Overwatch would be the first to speak and honor their achievements, but not even the most notable agents suspected he would speak. Gabriel Reyes approached the stage. In one hand he held a drink, and he shook with the other. As he arrived at the podium, he gave the audience his typical menacing glare. Even Jack was unnerved.

"Did you know grumps would be the first to speak? Lena asked Jack in a hushed voice.

"No," he responded, "I left most of the event scheduling to the event planners."

Reyes grunted to clear his throat. "So I suppose all of you are here for me to regurgitate all the wondrous deeds and services Overwatch has provided you. Well, I love vomiting as much as the next guy, but I think I'd rather tell you a story." Everyone in the room was captivated by Gabe's unusual direction. "A long time ago, I was just a soldier. I was just a man trying to make life work serving his country. Well, turns out I was pretty good at it… maybe too good. When the US government started coming around looking for soldiers to super charge, I nearly jumped at the chance. You see, all the fighting, the training, the conditioning, it starts to eat away at a person. By that point I'm not sure what humanity was left in me, but it wasn't enough." Gabriel lowered his head. "That's when my good friend, Commander Jack Morrison came in." Reyes smiled as he gestured to where Jack was sitting. Jack was startled to hear Reyes mention his name in such a context. "Morrison: you see he wasn't the kind of person who wanted to live as a soldier. He had dreams, ambitions, but most of all he had a sense of duty. Not to the government, his CO, or even his country. Jack was a man for people, and he wouldn't sit by and let me squander my abilities on myself. For every moment that we fought together, he gave my strength a purpose; he gave meaning to my madness. You see with Jack around, I couldn't just be a soldier. I had to think hard about the kind of person I wanted to become. I had to know why I was doing things, that I was doing them not for a corrupt cause but for humanity. That is what Overwatch is. Commander Morrison has set a standard of humanitarian efforts both in the world and in every person's heart." There was a brief eruption of applause. Gabriel smiled to himself. "When Jack and I were picked to lead the first Overwatch strike team, I was shocked. 'We were just soldiers,' or so I reasoned with myself. But what every member of that strike team including myself didn't realise at the time was that we weren't picked simply because we were the best of the best. Because there were others... hell, I've met some of them... recruited some of them. What made the Overwatch team unique was a uniting moral identity. Each member of the team sought to better humanity, to protect them, to save them. And that legacy lives on in each of us to this day, not because of a title or super powers, but because that hope for humanity still binds us to this very hour." Reyes raised his glass. "Let us never forget Overwatch's legacy." The room was filled with uproarious applause. For a moment Gabe caught Morrison's eyes, and then he looked away.

Meanwhile, Ana struggled to weave between bullets. That helicopter she had seen certainly was not interested in the news and was now raining gunfire upon her. Ana ducked behind a ventilation unit which provided her with minimal cover. The rapid popping of the machine gun was met with the echoes of other firefights in the district. The task force had certainly been surprised by Talon's attack if not overwhelmed.

Luckily, the Overwatch agents were not unprofessional grunts. A soldier posted on another roof began firing on the helicopter as suppressant. The chopper made a swift turn to avoid injury and redirected fire on the vulnerable target. Ana raised her rifle, knowing the window of opportunity would be short and even shorter for the daring soldier. As soon as the mounted gun began firing, the other agent would be cut to shreds. Without hesitation, Ana lined up her eye with the cockpit of the helicopter. _Bam!_

The heli wobbled unsteadily until it dipped into a downward dive. The rasping of the automatic gun was distorted as all precision was lost. Bullets skimmed over the rooftop, narrowly missing the soldier. Then the helicopter scraped against the building until its blades were choked with metal and concrete and then crashed into the ground with a fiery blast. The other agent only had time to nod in response before leaving to join his comrades.

Ana lowered her rifle. Scanning her surrounding, she couldn't see anyone else on the rooftops. Her perch seemed uncompromised for the moment. Regaining a sense of the grander scheme, Ana resumed her search for the communicator. With her keen vision, it didn't take long for her to spot the device under an AC unit. She grabbed it, but then her senses detected an oncoming threat. Several vehicles fast approached, likely filled with Talon goons. Ana ran to the roof's edge just in time to see several nondescript vans zoom past toward the venue. She hit the button on the communicator; Ana only hoped her message was not too late.

Jack nearly jumped from his seat when he felt the backup communicator vibrate in his pocket. Unfortunately he knew exactly what that meant. Just as the event was beginning to become entertaining, Jack had to shut everything down.

Tracer noticed his jolting reaction. "Everything alright, love?"

"Sadly," Jack said, "I believe this event is canceled."

"Aww," Tracer moaned, "Already?"

"You know your tasks. Has anyone seen Torbjörn?"

"I last saw him by the bar," Winston replied.

"Alright," Jack nodded, "If you guys can lock the place down, I'll get the weapons."

"Easily done, sir," Winston said.

"We'll be done in a jiffy," Lena chirped.

Each of them got up, and steeling themselves for the coming fight, went to prepare. Angela, however, had no place on the front lines. Being a medic, she didn't need to prepare her weapons, nor could she assist in a way that the others were not already covering. Morrison, being the ever attentive commander, made sure Angela was mentally prepared for the situation.

"You alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Angela responded, "I'll just stay with Celia."

"Good," he nodded, "There will be some medical equipment stored with the weapons. I'll be sure to bring it over." Angela nodded complacently.

Celia decided it was time to pipe up. "What's going on?" she asked.

Mercy turned to her smiling softly. "Don't worry about it too much, my dear. The heroes have to perform their jobs; they are protecting us."

"Are bad people coming for us?" Celia prodded.

"Probably," Angela said, "But I'll stay with you and make sure you're safe."

Celia snuggled up to Angela. "Are you scared?" she asked.

Angela gently patted the girl's head. "A little," she responded, "But not for the reason you might imagine." She watched as Morrison walked away.

Jack found Torby chugging another glass of beer. "Torbjörn," he tried to get the attention of the stout engineer.

Torbjörn slammed his empty glass on the counter. "Ha!" he said, "I think you're starting to slow down."

Reinhardt spoke in a rumbling voice, "You're going to have to try harder than that!" He raised another glass and emptied it in seconds.

"Reinhardt?" Jack interjected, "When did you get here?"

"Ah!" Torbjörn retaliated, "You never did know when to surrender!"

"And neither did you, my diminutive Swedish friend!" Their glasses were quickly refilled, and they both swigged the ale down.

"Hey!" Jack started, "Anybody want to do their jobs today?"

Reinhardt, noticing the intensified volume, slowly turned around. "Jack?" he stuttered, "When did you get here?"

"Not before you could drink yourselves to early graves," Jack retorted.

Reinhardt began bellowing with laughter. He got up and slung his bulky arms around Morrison. "Jack! I've missed you, old friend!" He squeezed Jack forcefully.

Jack's entire body was under unhealthy pressure. "Yeah, I've missed you too, buddy, but now's not the time to get sentimental," Jack strained to form the words.

Torbjörn pipped up. "Excuse us, Jack. We're in the middle of a contest, and I'm winning!"

"No you're not!" Reinhardt said as he swung around.

"Yeah," Jack said, "And we're about to be in the middle of a firefight here if the two of you don't straighten out!"

"Ah!" Torbjörn, "Jack, why didn't you say so? I need to get my materials!"

Jack sighed. "Finally. Let's go."

Reinhardt raised a finger. "Jack, what's going on? Is there trouble?"

"Yeah, it's Talon for sure," Jack replied. Looking over the sturdy German man, he thought better than putting him into the fight. "You're not exactly equipped for this. Stay with the civs in here; keep them safe."

"My Overwatch days may be over," Reinhardt said, "But the spirit lives on within me forever! I will not yield to any Talon fiends this day!"

Jack nodded. They separated, and he and Torbjörn retrieved the weapons and materials they had preemptively stored away in a supply closet. As Torbjörn began setting up automated defenses, the patrons began bombarding Jack with questions. It hadn't taken long for the guests to get into a tizzy after the event was cancelled and the room blockaded.

Representative Petras spoke to Jack. "Jack! What's this all about? Don't tell me this is some sort of sting operation." He face was intense but clearly unnerved.

"You've read the data on Talon," Jack responded, "Honestly, I was surprised so many of you came. I can't say you were never in danger, but I can say we certainly planned for this." Obviously, no one was pleased to be present in this situation, but everyone was also confident in the security measures being taken.

Jack rallied his troops together. "All right team, priority number one is keeping the people here safe. Torbjörn's defenses are sure to suppress any incoming threats, but it's up to us to ensure these people aren't harmed."

Reyes grunted. "Talon doesn't stand a chance," he scoffed, "If they even get in here, they'll be walking into a massacre."

"Right," Morrison stuttered, "But we need to take preemptive action…"

Just then there was an electrical surging noise, and then the lights went out. It was nearly pitch black in the auditorium until the flickers of phones illuminated the room. Morrison switched on the flashlight attached to his rifle providing some light.

"In the dark," Winston calmly stated, "Our odds of resisting a surprise attack are significantly lessened."

Morrison turned to Lena. "Tracer, catch!" He tossed a pair of goggles at her.

Struggling to grasp the object in the dark, a bewildered Lena asked, "What are these?"

"Night vision goggles," Jack stated, "I want you to get the power up and running. Winston, help map her route."

"Of course, sir," he responded. Lena also nodded eagerly.

"As I was going to say," Jack continued, "Reyes and I will be flanking the enemy force. With any luck it shouldn't take long to clear them out." Morrison looked to Reyes who shrugged uncomfortably.

"If anything goes sideways here," Reyes grumbled, "Try to signal us, so we can cover the exits." Jack nodded.

"Everybody got that?" Morrison asked. No one made motion to suggest otherwise. "Great. Let's move out." So they all went to complete their tasks.

Morrison and Reyes went over to the side of the auditorium. A few feet off the ground was a ventilation shaft that they hoped would assist them in subverting the enemy's expectations. Jack and Gabriel were both elite fighting machines, so if their plan of attack succeeded, the Talon mercs would have little room for error.

Reyes examined the vent which was too high to reach unassisted. "Hmmm," he grumbled, "Gonna need something to get up there…"

Jack gave him a puzzled look. "You kidding me? Just boost me."

Reyes shot Morrison an irritable look. He growled, "Ugh, fine." He got down next to the wall, and Morrison stepped onto his back. Reyes slowly stood up and Jack started unhinging the vent cover.

"Damn," Reyes grunted, "You're heavier than I remember. Have you put on weight?"

"No," Jack replied.

Reyes strained to keep his comrade upheld. "You sure?"

"I have bi-weekly physicals," Jack retorted, "I know my weight."

"Oh, right," Reyes chuckled, "You always were a momma's boy."

"Uh, huh," Jack nonchalantly replied, "Realistically, you are probably spending too much time in the basement and that has led to some muscle deterioration."

"God, you even sound like her," Reyes groaned, "Do us all a favor and go live your life outside of Overwatch."

Jack snorted. "And leave your sorry hide in charge?" Jack tossed the vent cover aside. "Not a chance." He crawled into the vent.

"Hey," Reyes called after him, "How am I supposed to get in there?"

"There's a junction up ahead," Jack echoed back, "Let me turn around and then I'll lift you up." It only took a minute and then the two men were face to face in the vent.

"We gonna kiss or are you going to move your ass, Morrison?"

Jack groaned. "Shoulda left you on the ground."

"If it was Angela," Reyes continued, "She would have gotten a kiss."

"No," Jack replied, "I'm not as loose as you are, Reyes."

"Hey," Reyes replied, "Someone has to take advantage of the Overwatch name."

"And I'm sure plenty of con men are," Jack said, "Now let's move." The pair crawled through the vents for some time until they were a good distance away from the central auditorium. Finding another duct, Jack kicked open the vent cover. The two men dropped to the floor; no Talon mercs were in their vicinity.

"Finally," Reyes sighed, "Get to do my job the way I was meant to: with a gun in each hand." He hefted his custom shotguns, grinning ear to ear.

"We should split up," Jack said.

"Agreed," Reyes replied.

Meanwhile, Winston lectured Lena on the pathways to the power room. "And so if you leave by this door and follow this hallway, you should reach the power room with little resistance."

"Ah, thanks," Lena replied, adjusting her night vision goggles, "I don't think there's any chance Talon can stop me now."

Winston smiled. "You had better move quick," he said, "Whatever Talon is doing here, they won't wait around much longer."

"I'll be back in a flash!" she said. Winston pulled the table they were using as a makeshift barricade away from the door. Lena opened the door and then giving a smile and a wave darted into the blackness of the hallway. Winston closed the door behind her.

Proceeding cautiously, Tracer made certain that no Talon mercs were lying in wait nearby. Wherever the goons were, Lena was surprised they hadn't struck yet. Perhaps Talon was just waiting until the team inevitably split apart, but even so, the mercs would then have to worry about the agents taking them by surprise. Lena blinked to the power room as fast as she could.

As she came to the entrance to the room, Tracer found it open. Naturally, she suspected that Talon goons might still be tinkering inside. She peered into the power room through the darkness. Two soldiers were hunched over a circuit breaker. One was trying to access the wires while the other covered him. The covering soldier noticed Tracer's movement and shined his light into the doorway. Lena just barely ducked out of sight.

"Hurry it up," the soldier grumbled, "Don't want to spend any more time here."

Lena exhaled as she prepared to engage the mercs. She slid into the room firing a volley of shots at the soldiers. One soldier ducked to cover on the left while the other spun away to the right.

"It's Tracer!" one soldier shouted, "Lock her down."

Tracer kicked the soldier out of cover. Having been thoroughly outmaneuvered, the two soldiers hefted their rifles and began firing sporadically at her. Lena blinked away from the shots and returned fire, putting the Talon mercs back on the defensive. The goons heard her footsteps to the front of the room. One of the soldiers jumped out from his hiding spot. He fired a few random rounds, but Tracer was already somewhere else. From behind, Lena grappled that soldier. She gave him a good smack on the helmet and tossed him into a corner. Then the other soldier, who witnessed this, thought he had a good opportunity to strike. He tossed a primed electrical grenade at Tracer. Lena smiled coyly as she rewound through time. The soldier was dismayed and then spun around in shock as Lena rematerialized behind him. Tracer slammed her foot into the soldier's chest sending him also to the corner. The grenade then exploded electrocuting both soldiers and likely incapacitating them for a long time.

Tracer laughed at how easily the goons had fallen to their own momentum. "Too easy." She blinked to the switch board and began re-engaging the electrical systems. A deep, rumbling sound echoed through the hallways as the power systems were flooded with energy. Lights gradually came to life, and the atmosphere of the venue was restored.

At that time, Winston and Torbjörn were awaiting a Talon assault. When the light was restored, everyone in the auditorium was relieved. Winston predicted a far higher chance of success so long as the Talon mercenaries did not have the cover of darkness. Torbjörn chuckled with delight. "She did it," he said.

"Of course," Winston replied, "I just hope our other companions are having as much luck."

Morrison wasn't surprised when the power returned; he had full confidence in his agents. That said, he was beginning to feel uneasy as he stalked the empty halls of the venue. Jack hadn't encountered one sign of Talon soldier thus far, and that frightened him a little. Considering the possibility that Talon had outmaneuvered Overwatch once again was disturbing. Instead of prolonging that line of thinking, he opted to check in with Reyes.

Jack tapped his earpiece. "Reyes, what's your status? Any sign of the enemy?"

The was a moment of static which was then filled by Reyes' delighted voice. "I'm fine ya old coot," he grumbled, "And no, I haven't seen any Talon soldiers. Not even a peep."

Jack process the report for a second. "I haven't located any mercs either," he replied, "We should rendezvous with the group in the auditorium."

Reyes sighed. "That's not going to make this any easier. At the very least we need to clear a path for extraction."

"No," Jack responded, "We need to buy time for Ana's team. They'll clear the area for extraction, while we focus on stopping the imminent assault."

"Well, if you haven't noticed," Reyes grunted, "The assault force doesn't appear to be anywhere in this building."

"Wait," Jack said, "Reyes, this place doesn't have any sewer or maintenance tunnels running underneath, does it?"

"Jack," Gabriel sighed, "Don't be ridiculous. Talon would still have to pass through the building if they entered through an underground passage."

Jack mulled his options over. "I'm going to sweep the second level. You make another round of the ground floor before heading back to the auditorium."

"Ugh," Reyes grunted, "Fine."

Meanwhile, Tracer was jubilantly relaying her antics to her comrades. "...and then I shoved the soldier right on top of his own grenade. You might say he was... 'shocked'!" She burst into laughter.

Winston also gave a little chuckle, but Torbjörn and Reinhardt did not find Lena so amusing. "Lena," Torbjörn said, "That may literally be the worst joke you've ever told."

"Well," Reinhardt added, "Let's not be so hasty. Remember the joke about Switzerland's flag?"

"Oh!" Torbjörn cried, "I had nearly removed that one from my memory."

"Ah, you bums," Tracer retaliated, "You don't find anything funny unless you're five beers in anyways."

"Not true!" Reinhardt said, "I find a great many things funny, like how Torbjörn is so short…"

"Hey!" Torb shouted.

"...or Lena's singing in the shower…"

"What?" Tracer cried.

"...or the number of guns Reyes keeps in storage."

"That is quite peculiar," Winston nodded.

Just then everyone, aside from Reinhardt, began hearing ringing and static through their earpieces. At first the burst of noise was alarming, but nothing decipherable seemed to be coming through. Winston attempted to adjust the piece to receive the signal properly. Whatever communique was being broadcast, no one could understand what was relayed.

"What?" Reinhardt asked in confusion, "Why does everyone have these weird faces?"

"Ow, this ringing," Tracer moaned, "This isn't funny!"

"I think someone is trying to communicate," Winston said, "But it seems the signal is being jammed."

"Ack," Torbjörn cried, "Can anyone make out the transmission? I can't hear anything." Torbjörn jerked the earpiece out of his head.

"Hold on," Winston said, "I think I hear something." Winston got a puzzled look on his face as he concentrated.

"May I?" Reinhardt said, extending a hand to his Swedish friend.

"Ah, take it," Torb resigned, "I can't stand these finicky gadgets anyways."

Reinhardt put the earpiece next to his ear. This is what they heard, "Rep...t .ha tal.n….erativ… ar. ent….. on the r..f… I repeat … Talon soldiers ….. the roof. Prepare for breach!"

Winston recapped, "Talon soldiers? The roof?"

Reinhardt shouted, "I know that voice! It seems that Ana is trying to warn us of an imminent attack!"

Then a short but mighty explosion resounded from overhead. Before anyone could react, bits of debris were falling from the ceiling. Torbjörn's turrets began firing wildly into the air. The steady pops of the automated guns were met with ka-chunks from the heights. Tiny canisters launched by the Talon soldiers littered the auditorium. Some of the canisters trailed thick smoke and began obscuring the room while others released electrical discharges to disable the defense systems. The whole room went into a panic.

Torbjörn shouted, "Their ruining all my hard work! Let's show them what we can do!" He raised his rivet gun and began firing madly into the hole in the ceiling. Shouting could be heard on the roof. Ropes suddenly descended from the opening, and Talon mercs began dropping into the auditorium.

"To arms, my friends!" Reinhardt shouted. He and the stout Swede led the charge into the dense clouds of smog.

The number of soldiers that had poured into the auditorium far outweighed the Overwatch team, but that wasn't enough to demoralize them. In the disarray and chaos, some of the Talon mercs slid to their deaths as Tracer blasted away at the descending troops. Winston began working crowd control. He leapt across the room, electrifying groups of Talon men all at once and battering some as he went. Torbjörn was running his forge up to maximum as he coated the Talon soldiers with molten rivets. Meanwhile Reinhardt was having the time of his life.

Reinhardt plowed through several unsuspecting soldiers. Then, a short distance away, he saw two Talon fiends pointing their weapon at a group of innocent politicians. "You know," he said as he approached the soldiers from behind, "there's one thing that I find funnier than anything else." He laid his enormous hands on the helmets of the Talon goons. "That's when people look at me and still think that a criminal life is a good idea." Reinhardt slammed the two heads together, knocking both soldiers unconscious. He examined the terrified patrons. "Get to cover!" he shouted, "This will be over soon."

One of the group shouted, "Watch out!"

Reinhardt swiveled around. Several more Talon soldiers fast approached. Glancing around, Reinhardt moved to a nearby table. The wooden frame was nothing to the huge German man, and he hefted it into the air easily. With a thunderous roar, Reinhardt sent the table flying. The next thing the Talon goons knew, they were sprawled out on the floor under the splinters of the table. Reinhardt chuckled happily.

Before long Winston realized that there were too many Talon soldiers to handle and more were still pouring in from the roof. Tracer was also having a strenuous time keeping with the flow. Winston called out to Lena, "Tracer! We have to cut off their entrance!"

Lena's eyes went from Winston to the hole in the ceiling, "Right! You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

"I certainly hope so!" Winston shouted.

Lena readied one of her infamous pulse bombs. Winston came alongside her and took her in his hand. "Here we go!" he shouted. He leapt high into the air nearly reaching the ceiling and then hurled Tracer beyond his reach.

Lena felt her adrenaline rush as she zoomed through the air. "Whoo!" she exuberantly cried. She popped through the gap in the ceiling and into the clear night. There were at least a dozen more Talon soldiers waiting. The mercs were astonished to see the slick British lady floating through their new entryway. "Hiya!" Tracer gave a little wave and a wink as she hurled the now active pulse bomb into the crowd. In only a split second, she recalled to the ground.

A fiery explosion sent more debris to the floor, but the Talon breach had certainly been cut off. "Nice job," Winston lauded.

"Aw, thanks, love!" Tracer replied. She then returned to harassing the enemy with her pistols.

At the same time, Dr. Ziegler had become disconcerted by the battle. The surprise, the smoke, and the hostilities horrified Angela. She was clinging almost as tightly to Celia as she was to her. Out of the smog, a Talon soldier came striding up to them, his mask aglow with burning crimson lights. He raised his rifle.

Just then, Torbjörn came flying through the air, his hammer aloft. The Swede crashed onto the soldier and swung his hammer into the soldier's helm. Angela turned away and covered Celia's eyes as Torb brutalized the merc. Torbjörn shouted furiously as he finished the soldier off. He turned to Angela. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Talon interrupted the conversation. A flashbang grenade burst right in front of them. All of them were blinded and could barely hear. Angela felt a cold, plated arm forcefully shove her aside. She tumbled to the ground, unable to orient herself. While incapacitated, she could just make out the masked voices of the soldiers.

"Move, move! To the exit!" one shouted.

"Grab anyone you can on the way out!" another said.

As Angela and Torby began coming to, Angela saw a Talon soldier standing over them. He hefted his rifle, probably thinking he should finish the Overwatch personnel that had caused them so much trouble. Angela's head sunk to the floor; in her desperation, she resigned herself to death.

Then Reinhardt came charging through. With one swing of his bulky arms, the soldier went flying across the room. He attempted to assist his friends, lifting Torby to his feet and then taking Angela by the hand. As she snapped out of her daze, Angela looked around herself.

In an anguished but exhausted voice, she cried, "Reinhardt, they took the girl."

The pain in Angela's voice cause Reinhardt to give pause. "What?" he wanted Angela to reiterate.

"They took Celia!" Angela cried, "The little girl I was sheltering."

With those words Reinhardt's spirit was truly ignited. Evil doers causing trouble was one things, but harming innocent children was a despicable matter. Reinhardt's flaming eyes shot to the doors where the Talon mercs had pushed out of the auditorium, and he bolted away.

While the commotion in the auditorium was ongoing, Jack and Reyes were not being ignorant. At the moment the Talon soldiers breached, Jack was attempting to find access to the roof on the second floor. However, by the time he had located the hatch, Tracer had already cleared the problem. In the meantime Jack radioed Reyes, telling him to position himself to cut off the enemy's escape at the rear of the venue while he covered the front. Tracer then managed to get a report to the Commander.

"Talon men have taken hostages, and it looks like they're head to the back of the building," Lena said, "We've still got a few holdouts here. Can you deal with this?"

Jack replied in the affirmative. "Reyes should already be in position. I'll make my way down there quickly."

Then Ana halted him. "Jack!" she called through the coms.

"Ana?" Jack replied, "Where have you been? We lost communication for some time."

"I just managed to make my way to the roof next door to the venue," Ana said, "The signal seems strong enough here to break through."

"Good," Morrison said, "Can you get eyes on the rear of the facility? Talon is moving in that direction."

"Wait, Jack, that's what I wanted to say," she continued, "I overheard Tracer's report, but there are more Talon soldiers readying in front of the venue. Too many for me to handle alone."

"Dammit!" Jack swore, "Alright, get eyes on the rear. I'll deal with the front."

"Wait! Jack!" Ana's voice trailed as Jack turned her nagging out.

Jack Morrison made his way to a window overlooking the street at the front of the venue. Outside he could see at least twenty Talon mercs if not more, prepping their guns and grabbing gear from their vans. Now was the time to strike while they were still unorganized. Jack exhaled as he hefted his trusty pulse rifle to his shoulder. With one hand he tapped the side of his head and the characteristic humming and light shone across his field of view. The tactical visor locked on to every man's heat signature detected outside. Without reluctance, Jack squeezed the trigger.

 _Pa, pa, pa, pa, pa, pa, pa!_ A stream of shots burst through the window and into the street. Jack handled his weapon perfectly, adjusting to every bounce of recoil. Clip after clip was emptied from his gun, and casings covered the ground. Jack watched first hand as his enemies were riddled with bullets. Soon every soldier in the street was a corpse stuffed with lead.

At that same time, Reyes had made his way into the halls at the back of the venue. As he came around the bend leading to the exit, he was greeted by a host of Overwatch strike team members. They lined the hall and were in prime position to halt Talon's escape. Revealing himself to the soldiers, he walked past them to the rear and conversed with the team leader.

"When did you guys get here?" Reyes asked.

"We're a part of Ana's team, sir," replied the officer, "Once we broke the assault, she sent us to cover the exits at the back of the building."

"Ah, I get it," Reyes said, "I'll be here for support then." He readied his shotguns. The officer nodded. Gabriel Reyes knew exactly what he had to do next. He was not averse to the idea, but still a tiny, moral part of him had to be crushed. In all his years of service, nothing had satisfied the desires and aspirations of Reyes, so he had to carve a new path. Logically, this path would be the one to sate his most deep-seeded emotions: resentment, jealousy, hatred, and a longing for power. Even so, Gabe told himself that he would regret his actions, that there were days with Overwatch that he would pine over. Reyes knew those shadows to be lies. Overwatch had only delivered him sorrow and suffering. Now it was their turn.

Gabriel stood up, aimed his gun, and blasted the head of the Overwatch officer clean off. Before anyone could think twice, Reyes was already unloading the entirety of his clips into the other squad members. The Overwatch soldiers shook violently with every blast of buckshot. The brave men screamed in pain as their commander turned on them. Reyes looked on in delight as each soldier struggled against death to cling to life for another precious moment. The ecstatic pleasure of pure vengeance for all those wasted years culminated in Reyes' mind as he circulated that single word to himself: die, die, die!

As it ended, smoke trailed from the heated frames of Reyes' shotguns. The smell of gunpowder and blood swirled in his flared nostrils. All the power that had been used against him, to embarrass him, had been returned to Gabriel's hands. He threw his guns to the ground. At the thought of his horrendous act, Gabriel couldn't help but chuckle. Then the laugh grew and became something more sinister. Reyes was not longer a puppet but the puppeteer of death; nevertheless, he still had a role to play.

"Better make this believable," he mumbled to himself. He plopped down on the wall next to one of the dead Overwatch operatives. Reyes pulled out his sidearm and shot himself in the leg. Reyes had been shot many times before, but pulling the trigger himself didn't make this any easier. Dark, pungent blood pooled around his leg. Soon one of the agents would arrive and be forced to tend to Reyes' injuries.

Gabriel then heard a number of footsteps approaching his direction. A group of Talon soldiers accompanied by bound hostages rounded the corner. Reyes stared blankly as the crimson masks walked by without a care. They forced the hostages along; most had their eyes covered and hands tied. One Talon merc had a kid slung over his shoulder. Gabriel didn't think twice about it. The soldiers escorted their quarry out the back exit without any resistance.

One of the soldiers at the rear of the company stopped to speak with Reyes for a moment. "You did well, Gabriel," the soldier said through his helmet. Reyes nodded, his eyes glazing over. Gabriel's skin was turning a pale grey, and he looked delirious. "The boss says he will uphold his end of the bargain," the soldier went on, "We owe you a debt, Reyes. Talon will repay you."

Reyes grunted and then motioned the soldier along. The group of terrorists disappeared from sight, and Reyes continued waiting in the blood he had spilt. After a minute had passed, Gabriel heard the unmistakeable stomping of Reinhardt. The German man came barreling down the hall, in a hurry to catch the Talon men. He didn't even notice Reyes suffering in his own blood as he burst out of the venue and into the cool night.

Reinhardt glanced around. The Talon fiends had clearly gone down the alley; their vehicles were likely waiting at the other end. Reinhardt charged after them with reckless abandon. The Talon mercs, however, did not want further troubles, so several men lied in wait. When Reinhardt ran through the alley, one soldier jumped onto his back putting the giant into a headlock. Another man gave Reinhardt a smack on the face with the butt of his rifle. The group of soldiers punched, beat, and brutalized the noble warrior and then cast him aside into the dirty trash and water piled in the alleyway. One soldier raised his rifle.

"No," another one discouraged, "The boss says none of the agents die."

The soldier lowered his gun, giving a grunt in response.

"The old man's done; he's trash anyways," said the other.

The men walked away, leaving Reinhardt to wallow in his defeat. After the beating, Reinhardt was stunned. Losing to a bunch of cowards in such a crucial moment was humiliating. His spirit was so crushed, Reinhardt thought he might die. He was completely lost. When all hope was gone, Reinhardt heard footsteps. A face came into view, but he could barely see due to the lighting in the alley.

"Oh, Reinhardt, what have they done to you?" a familiar voice asked.

"Ana? Is that you?" Reinhardt struggled to speak, "Oh, this must be heaven if you're here. Tell me we fought valiantly." As he lay feebly on the ground, Ana knelt beside him.

Ana laughed softly. "You're not dead yet," she said. Ana took a biotic healing grenade and pulled the pin. A surge of nano-biotic energy, preceeded by a short pneumatic release, enveloped the two agents. Reinhardt's body was restored, but his pride remained wounded.

The German man slowly got to his feet. Though the lovely Ana had come to his aid, his face was somber. "I have failed," Reinhardt sighed.

"Do not lose hope yet," Ana said with a smile, "There's still time!" She flashed the wrist launcher on her arm.

Reinhardt's courage returned once he understood. He nodded, saying, "I am ready!"

Ana leapt behind Reinhardt, swirling her cloak as she did. "Get in there!" she said as the boost injection pierced him. Suddenly, Reinhardt was sprinting like never before. The Talon soldier looked behind to see what was amiss. An enormous man was barreling towards them radiating with energy.

"Can we kill him now?" a soldier shouted. They began firing.

As Reinhardt charged, the bullets impacting him were refracted by the tremendous energies pulsating through his body. The other Talon soldiers saw the threat and hopped into their vans. The men continued firing to no avail. The soldiers in the van behind them started yelling, telling the others to get in. After several volleys of fire, the Talon mercs fell back, jumping into the back of the van. The doors slammed shut. Each van revved up and a few at the front began speeding away. The van at the rear, however, was not so lucky.

Reinhardt threw his hands around the van causing it to shudder. The soldiers inside shouted, and the driver floored the gas. The wheels screeched and burnt, struggling against Reinhardt's strength. The nano technology sent Reinhardt's muscles into overdrive; he appeared almost inhuman. Reinhardt bellowed as he raised the van off its back wheels. The tires now spun free, but the van could not move. Inside the Talon men struggled to brace themselves. Reinhardt shouted angrily and then tossed the van on its side. Glass shattered and sparks flew as the vehicle slid along the cement. The rear doors opened, and the contents of the van came spilling out.

One bloodied soldier crawled out of the van. His vestments dragged through shards of glass and metal, and he coughed violently as the pain of the crash caught up to him. Having little sense of self preservation, he reached for a rifle cast on the ground in front of him. The soldier drudgingly pulled himself forward. As his stained glove touched the metallic frame, a boot stamped firmly upon the gun. He slowly gazed upward at the shadowy figure above him.

The figure raised a sidearm. "Lights out."

A SHORT TIME LATER...

The police and medical teams arrived well after the chaos had ended. The city sector had taken some heavy hits; plenty of structures had sustained damage. Fires had broken out; traffic accidents had occurred; people had died. On a night that was supposed to be a celebration of Overwatch's legacy, that legacy had suffered a great tarnishing. Though some at the time would describe the agents' efforts as commendable, this scandal would certainly not be the last to disgrace Overwatch. Talon had embarrassed them and taken some valuable personnel. Among those kidnapped by Talon were a number of Overwatch scientists possessing sensitive data on Overwatch's projects including the reactor.

Strike-Commander Morrison was finishing giving a report to the local authorities. In all the aftermath, he barely had time to check in with his agents, but he was able to provide his oversight on the events. An officer took notes as Jack dictated.

As he completed the report, the officer said, "Thank you, sir. We'll be sure to contact Overwatch if anything else should come up."

Jack simply nodded, not feeling any sense of responsibility to the local law enforcement. That kind of jurisdiction was the least of his worries. The world's governments and the UN posed a far more real danger to Overwatch. If they so desired, Overwatch could be shut down, and Jack didn't think Overwatch's performance as of late had been up to snuff. Beyond that, Talon was becoming an international power. The world would live under fear of their terrorism so long as Overwatch couldn't stop them. Then there were other individual grievances.

The distraught Representative Petras approached Jack. "Jack!" he sounded terrified, "Do you know where my daughter is?"

Jack's mind flooded with anguish so intense he wanted to vomit. He was too seasoned to believe this conversation would end well "I left her with my agents in the auditorium," he calmly replied.

"I…" he stuttered, "I didn't see her in there."

Jack smeared his hand across his face. "Allow me to check in with my agents then," Jack said lacking any energy. "Ah, here comes a few now." Dr. Ziegler was accompanying the injured Gabriel Reyes as two other EMTs carted him along. "Angela," he called, "Can I have a word?"

Angela told the technicians to wait. She walked up to them. "Is everything alright?" she asked.

Jack maintained a professional, calm demeanor. "Do you know where Celia is?"

Angela looked at Jack and then at Petras. Immediately she deduced the situation. If there was something worse than telling a person that their loved one was dead, it would be this: the person's child was kidnapped. Angela became very quiet. "Sir," she addressed the representative, "I…"

"No!" Petras cried, "Don't you say it! Don't you dare say it!" He franticly ran his hands through his hair as he inhaled haphazardly. His eyes welled up with tears and he bit his lip. "Dammit," he mumbled curses under his breath.

Angela had tears forming in her own eyes. "I'm sorry," Angela whispered, "We were taken by surprise. I…"

"Stop. I don't want to hear it!" Petras shouted. He began weeping. "My daughter!" he cried, "Celia!" He broke down and collapsed to his knees.

Jack had a wrinkled forehead and a big frown on his face, but he couldn't tear up in a place like this. "You can go," he said to Angela. She barely nodded, tears dripping from her face. When Angela got back to Gabriel, Reyes questioned her about the commotion.

Jack didn't have a way to magically solve the problem, so he tried to console Petras. "Hey," he said, "We'll bring your daughter back."

Petras shot up and grabbed Jack's shoulders. "You'd better bring her back!" he shouted through tears, "You have to bring her back, Goddammit!" He struggled to speak as he cried. "You people were everything to her!"

Just then, Reyes called out to them. "Hey!" he said as laid on the stretcher. Jack and Petras looked to him. "You WILL get your daughter back." Gabriel said that with a most intense and serious face. Petras released Jack and nodded slowly. Then Angela walked away with Gabriel.

Two more agents, Lena and Winston, came walking up next. "What's all the commotion about?" Lena asked.

Jack responded in a somber tone. "Celia's been taken."

"Oh no!" Winston cried.

"Wh… what?" a bewildered Tracer reiterated her confusion, "You mean Talon took Celia?" Suddenly she was in a panic, her face flushed red. "Wha… what are we standing around here for then!? Why aren't we out there? We should be going after her!"

Jack sighed. "Lena…"

"Someone saw the vans, right?" Tracer shouted, "They have to be on cameras or have left a trail or something! We just need to map it out! I'll go after them! I can catch them."

"Lena, that kind of thing takes time," Jack said.

"Jack!" Lena winced as she attempted to hold back tears. "We have to do something! C'mon!" she screamed, "You have to tell me the plan! You know where they're taking her, don't you?" She locked her pained eyes with Morrison's.

"I'm sorry," was all he could say.

"No!" she cried. Lena started hitting Jack. "C'mon, Jack! We… have to… save… Celia!" Her punches weakened rapidly as she began to cry openly.

Jack cradled Lena's head. He nearly choked up seeing one of his agents so broken. "It's okay," he mumbled unbelievingly, "It's gonna be okay. She'll be okay." Jack could barely stand this; his heart was breaking.

Then they heard the soft rumbling of Reinhardt's laugh. "Don't despair so much my friends," he said, "I think one of these unkempt gentlemen would be happy to tell you where the Talon fiends have gone." Two soldiers were bundled in Reinhardt's arms. He grinned as he tossed their unconscious bodies onto the ground. Morrison looked over the limp Talon mercs. A spark of hope ignited within him. At that moment Jack knew the war with Talon was just beginning.


	3. Chapter 3

[Author's Note: If you've read chapter 2 and are ready to eat up chapter 3, just hold on. Chapter 2 takes place chronologically before the official Overwatch comic "Legacy", and Chapter 3 occurs afterwards. Please look it up and read it if you haven't. It's good; it's free; and it'll help give you some perspective on the events following chapter 2.]

Jack Morrison was dying. Sitting once again at his desk, he couldn't do anything as he watched the world he had built slip through his hands. An untrimmed piece of notebook paper lied on his desk. It was a letter from Representative Petras' daughter Celia. Jack buried his head in his hands, unsure if he could find the resolve to read the letter. He recalled the girl's fate.

Overwatch had failed. Critical scientists had been captured by Talon along with Celia. The possibility that she was simply an unfortunate bystander appeared unlikely in the light of recent events, but the truth does not make the reality any easier. By some arduous persuasion of some Talon affiliates, Jack and his team had nailed down the location of the hostages. Celia was never among the hostages at the site, but Overwatch still had a duty. It didn't take long to recover every single one of the Overwatch scientists, yet the mission was anything but successful.

Jack lost his second in command, Ana Amari. One more core member of Overwatch had fallen. For him, this was more than just a destabilization of the Overwatch hierarchy; Jack lost his closest friend. She had been there since the beginning, always by Jack's side, always telling him how to do his job. The other agents were also distraught by her passing, but Reinhardt and Torbjörn in particular were distressed. They had both been close with her since the old days although they all had disagreements. Being a difficult woman, getting her to cooperate was not always easy. That resistance made her an excellent partner; she wouldn't accept any command blindly. Ana was oftentimes stubborn, but Jack held himself responsible for Ana's death. If only, he thought, he had ordered her to fall back a little sooner, she might have complied and still been here with him. Then again, Ana's death freed her from the horrible experience that would immediately proceed it.

While Jack and Ana had been engaged in a hostage rescue mission, an unknown entity released files detailing the deepest, darkest transgressions of Overwatch. Even Jack had no prior knowledge of these things. Apparently, Blackwatch, Overwatch's black-ops division, had been growing intensely corrupt. Weapons proliferation, assassination, coercion, kidnapping, and human rights abuses such as torture composed the list of Blackwatch's misdeeds. When Jack returned home from the rescue mission, he was not greeted with congratulations or condolences. Instead, he was treated to insults, threats, and spite by members of the public and government. Blackwatch's reveal would be the crowning piece in a larger puzzle despite all Jack Morrison's efforts.

UN Representative Petras had long been friends with Jack, but that kinship wouldn't come between a man and his daughter. After her capture, Celia was taken to an unknown location. Talon obviously had plans for her.

SEVERAL MONTHS PRIOR…

Petras sat alone in his dark, musky office. He spent most of his time sulking here, drinking. After his daughter's kidnapping, the responsibilities of his job just didn't seem important. It was during one of these pitiful sessions that he got the call.

The ringing phone jolted Petras out of his depressing thoughts. Honestly, the first thought that came to mind was unplugging the old thing, but Petras was trying to be hopeful. People said keeping busy could help, so he answered, thinking it might be some other official. When he picked up the phone, the voice was anything but familiar.

"Representative Petras," a deep, indecipherable voice was on the other end, "I'm glad you picked up."

Petras sat upright. "Who… who is this?" he started.

The person on the other end breathed heavily for a moment. Petras was terrified; he had no idea who he was talking to or if they meant to threaten him or his daughter. The voice on the other end pulled away from the phone. "Here," the words sounded quiet.

Another voice filled Petras' ears. "Daddy?" Celia's unmistakable voice called out to her father.

"Celia!" Petras cried. His eyes instantly welled up with tears. "Are you okay?"

"I'm being brave, daddy," Celia said, "I'm waiting for you." The phone gurgled as it was passed from person to person.

Petras breathing became sporadic. "You ########! What have you done to her?" Petras shouted.

The voice on the other end just snickered and laughed. "Well, let's see," said the voice, "Took her on a plane ride. After we landed, we were all pretty tired so we napped for a bit, and then we went for a walk in the park. It was really nice; we had a picnic lunch. I think things are going swimmingly."

Petras couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Screw you!"

"Representative," the voice took a more serious tone, "No one has done anything to your daughter other than temporarily remove her from your presence."

"You liar!"

"I can get Celia to give you the details herself if that would convince you."

"You're dead!"

"Whoa!" the voice cried, "Listen, Mr. Representative, before we get to the nonsensical insult throwing, let's talk."

"We have nothing to talk about," Petras cooly replied.

"Don't worry. I can think of a few things," the voice said, "Your daughter has been very cooperative thus far, and I'd hate to do something mean to her, so hear me out." Petras was silent. He was caught between rage and fear for his daughter. "You have a very useful set of talents, Mr. Petras. Your position of influence in the UN puts you into position to help us."

"I will not aid a terrorist organization!" Petras growled.

"Oh, don't even think of it like that," the voice said, "You won't have to hurt anyone or coerce anyone or even make anyone lose a job. Terror is the exact opposite of what we want to inflict. In fact, we just want to clean the world up a bit."

"That's ########," Petras said.

"All you have to do is write a proposal for an act and then introduce the proposal to the UN. That's all; nothing to it."

"Uh huh, and what would the proposal be about?" Petras mockingly asked.

"Oh, it shouldn't come as too much of a surprise," the voice cooed, "It's been on people's minds as of late. We want you to write the proposal on the shuddering of Overwatch."

"So that's it?" Petras asked, "You want me to singlehandedly remove the greatest threat to your organization's survival. No way."

"Mr. Petras, what we're asking isn't so farfetched," the voice continued, "If you were of a different personality, you might have already contemplated this. Or maybe you have, but wanted to believe otherwise. Well, I'll tell you that Overwatch will not save your daughter. I am fully aware that Overwatch has our agents and is closing in on the location of the scientists. Celia is not with them. No one besides myself and my crew knows where she is."

"Look," Petras said, "Even if I agreed to write the proposal, there's no way I can convince any amount of the other representatives to vote on it."

The voice chuckled. "I said your talents were very useful, but all we need you to do is introduce the proposal, nothing more. You don't even have to support it. By doing this you will be saving your daughter without even doing anything illegal."

"How can I know you'll return her when I'm through?" Petras asked.

"Mr. Petras, I have been nothing but kind to your daughter. We have not asked you to do anything that is difficult or against your philosophies. Honestly, we have no use for you beyond this, and I don't want a new daughter. But if you don't do this, I won't be pleased. I'll kill you and your daughter, and then I'll kidnap someone else's child. So it's a one and done kind of deal. You understand?"

Petras just gaped as he contemplated what he was going to do.

"Think about it, Representative," the voice said, "We'll be in touch."

PRESENT DAY

Representative Petras was used to formulate the proposal for the shutdown of Overwatch. He got his daughter back in return, but the cost for Overwatch would be insurmountable. That proposal had come to light just prior to the release of the Blackwatch files. Now that proposal seemed far more potent than Petras might have imagined. An investigation into Overwatch's dealings was spawned and soon discovered the truth of the allegations. Judgement was cast swiftly. The proposal was put into law, the Petras Act. Now, the operatives of Overwatch had only a few precious hours before they were evicted and the Overwatch facilities worldwide would be shut down.

There was a lot of blame to go around. Petras played his part. Talon orchestrated things. Overwatch failed repeatedly. Most of all Jack blamed Reyes. He couldn't know who had released the Blackwatch files, but that mattered little. Reyes had gone far beyond disrespect and disobedience; he had taken everything Jack Morrison and Overwatch stood for and corrupted it. Every order, every command Reyes was given, he took and contorted it to his liking. Gabriel Reyes had done unjustifiable evil in direct defiance of Jack's authority.

Now Jack was reading this letter and feeling the weight of everything he was about to lose. This is what Celia wrote.

"Dear Strike Commander Jack,

My dad told me that Overwatch is shutting down. I am very sorry if I have caused this. I want you to know that I am safe. I heard that you searched for me, and that makes me happy. I don't blame anyone for not finding me. I really wanted to see your agents again, but I am sad if I don't. You are a hero to me. Please keep being a hero after Overwatch. Dad says I should not cry about Overwatch because you did terrible things. I don't believe that. I am a little mad at him for saying that. You never did anything wrong to me, and I know you wouldn't hurt anyone who wasn't bad. Please keep being a soldier. People need you.

Love,

Celia".

Celia was such a hopeful, inspiring girl. Reality couldn't be further from those ideals at this very moment. Jack's legacy, Overwatch's legacy, had been dragged through soot and ash like an innocent marshmallow. No one was willing to give either a second chance. Jack could try to preserve Overwatch conceptually. He might have rallied his agents, dispersed them, and had them carry out covert operations without government scrutiny. That way the agents would still protect people. It might be a thankless, fruitless job, but at least the world wouldn't be alone. But Jack knew that such a plan wouldn't last. Eventually the government would uncover them, perhaps imprison them. Beyond that Jack didn't believe his agents would be happy living their lives in secret. The whole plan was more about saving Jack's pride than anything else, so he couldn't stomach it.

Sometimes when your back is to the wall and there's no escape, the honorable thing to do is fall. Repulsing and horrifying as the idea might be, Jack knew shuddering Overwatch was the best option, maybe not for the world, but for his "family". Jack did not want the story to end in death. After Overwatch, the world would need hope, and Jack believed that the agents he had so carefully mentored could be that light for the future.

There were still other dangerous implications behind Overwatch's shutdown. Millions of dollars were poured into Overwatch's research, and that tech was immensely powerful. If anyone got their hands on that research, there would be no telling what kind of damage would follow. Surely the UN would guard and maintain Overwatch facilities post shutdown, but Morrison had one project in mind that he couldn't trust them with.

Jack stood up and sighed. Despite that the world insisted Overwatch was unneeded and unwanted, there was still work to be done. He grabbed his jacket.

A voice echoed from overhead. "Are you going out, Jack?" Athena asked.

"Yes, in a little while," Jack said, "First, I'm going to check in with the agents."

"Very well," Athena chirped, "I will remind you that there are only 31 hours remaining before this facility is defunct."

"Is everyone collecting their things?" Jack asked.

"All the agents have been clearing their possessions," Athena said, "Except one."

"Ah," Jack said, "And I think I know who that might be. Thanks Athena." He stepped to the door.

"Of course, sir," Athena responded.

Morrison walked down the hall he had walked a hundred times before, but this time the mood was different, like watching leaves fall from a dying tree. Although the sun shone brightly through the windows, there was no joy to accompany it. Jack knew some of his agents would take this poorly. He only wished he could restore their hope for a new tomorrow. Eventually, Jack came to the cafeteria. The sun sent beams streaming through the skylight. The room was quiet, another reminder of the somberness of the atmosphere.

Then there was a crashing sound. Someone had dropped a pot or pan in the kitchen, so Jack went to see what was amiss.

"Ouch," a voice grumbled.

As Jack entered the room, he saw Winston scratching his head. "Winston?" he said, "What are you doing?"

"Oh, hello sir," Winston said, "I was getting a little hungry, so I came back here to see what I could find. One thing led to another and well… here I am!"

"Mhmm," Jack nodded, "Do you know if Tracer has cleared out her stuff yet?"

"Well sir," Winston replied, "I can't imagine so."

"Right," Jack responded, "I'll leave you to it then."

Winston went back to whatever he was doing, humming right along. Jack then left the cafeteria and went to the agent's quarters. Though in the quarters there was a general buzz of activity, there were no conversations, no laughter. It seemed like everyone had already been evicted. He came to Tracer's room.

He knocked. Jack stood there in front of Tracer's door for several moments, but there was no response from within. He knocked again, putting a little more force behind his fist. Suddenly, the mechanical door slid to the side. A melancholy Tracer answered.

"Oh," she said quite plainly, "It's you." Her hand was firmly against the wall, and she did not wear a smile.

Jack stood upright. "Lena," he said, "I hope you haven't been sulking all day."

"Ha," she mumbled, "It's not like there's anything better to do."

"Lena, you have to have your things packed," Jack said, motioning to her room, "You won't get another opportunity."

Lena quietly surveyed her surroundings. "What's the point? Hardly anything in here is mine anyways. It's all useless Overwatch junk." Jack stood silent. Lena clenched her fists. "What am I even supposed to do when I'm out there?" she shouted, "After everything, people don't even appreciate us! What kind of a life can I have while I have to wear this harness on my chest all the time?" She tugged at the bulky frame around her chest.

"Lena…" Jack said.

"I can't just change!" she said, "Overwatch is my life; how could I do anything else?"

Jack put his hands together. "Lena! You need to focus." Tracer turned to Jack, her face covered with pain. "You can't forget who you are, Lena. You are a hero and will always be a hero no matter what people say we've done. This life after that you're worried about isn't important. What is important is the ideal we've set forth here. Remember what your fellow agents have been fighting for; remember how I trained you. When you leave this place, you won't be Lena Oxton of yesteryear. You'll be Tracer: a hero and a light for good. If we try to assimilate with society, then the enemy has already won. That's not the Tracer I know, who puts her life on the line every time someone is in danger."

Lena crossed her arms. "You can't just expect me to feel better," she grumbled.

"No," Jack said, "But I can expect you to try. There are other agents here who are experiencing the same grief. Overwatch may be done, but that doesn't mean you have to abandon its people or dispose of its ideals."

"Fine," Lena sighed, "I'll get my things."

"Good," Jack said, "And thank you, Lena, for not giving up."

Lena just shrugged as she got to work. Jack was surprised to see Tracer so distraught. Usually she would be the last one to let a setback discourage herself, but circumstances were decidedly different this time. At that moment Jack didn't feel much like a commander; he simply wanted to make all these worries disappear. He couldn't stand to watch his agents fall into despair, yet Jack's duties went far beyond the scope of his inner circle. If he had to be the "bad guy" to reach his goals, Jack was willing to accept that.

Turning around, Commander Morrison continued walking down the halls. Just imagining that he might never see these rooms filled with the joys of life again was torturous. So many darkened faces stood where eager smiles and bright eyes should have been. Overwatch was dying, and the hope within had been eviscerated.

As Jack made his way through the complex, he came to one of the big hangars. Normally maintenance crews would be bustling all over making preparations for some mission. This time the only person Jack could find was Torbjörn, hammering away at some scrap.

"Torbjörn," Jack called out, "What are you doing?"

Torbjörn, not expecting any visitors, abruptly looked around. "Oh, Jack," he stammered. He blinked and then got a grumpy look on his face. "What does it look like I'm doing? My engineering knowledge isn't meant to be squandered."

"This isn't the time for that sort of thing," Jack said discouragingly.

Torbjörn swiftly turned around, shoving his wacky, metal hand thing into Jack's face. "And what do you know about timing!? Hmmm? You're always charging blindly in and putting us all at risk."

Jack's brow lowered. "Did you want to file a complaint?" he asked, "Or were you just looking to place more of the blame on my shoulders."

"Don't be snarky with me," Torbjörn said, "You had been pursuing Talon with reckless abandon, and look where that got us."

"How do you think I feel, Torbjörn," Jack huffed, "I have to live knowing I was the one who played into Talon's hand! Now the public despises me, Ana is dead, and my agents are looking to me to provide some relief. I am fighting every desire in my body to resist walking down to Blackwatch and murdering every ########### who consorted to ruin Overwatch. So go ahead and blame me, Torbjörn! At least I won't have to worry about you hurting someone else."

"Ah," Torbjörn cried, "Forget it. We all should have seen this coming a long time ago."

"No," Jack said, "Reyes was our ally, our friend. He betrayed us. No one would have expected that."

Torbjörn just grunted. "Best hope we don't meet," he said, "If you see him though, give him one for me."

"Torb," Jack continued, "Come back inside. Enjoy the time we have left with the agents."

Torb looked back to his scrap. "Just leave me to my work, Jack. There are still other agents who need your help."

Jack wanted to curb the Swede's stubborn will, but he thought better of continuing the fight. As he said, other agents still required some checking up on. If the agents closest to Overwatch were so upset, then others would certainly have unchecked emotions. Morrison checked every room he could. Frankly, not all of the agents were pleased with him, but each one was convinced of the importance of the mission and the camaraderie that had formed within Overwatch. Eventually, he came to the medical wing.

The lab he had surveyed many times was still. The instruments that were usually buzzing with energy laid motionless. The countertops typically covered with utensils had been cleared and cleaned. No one was there aside from Jack. Most of the nonessential personnel didn't even bother coming in any longer.

 _Maybe Angela is in her office,_ Jack reasoned.

He left the med lab and walked to Angela's office. He knocked.

"Come in," Angela said.

Jack opened the door. "Hey," he said.

"Hello, Jack," Angela responded. She didn't look up from some paper work she was sorting through.

"Have you already gathered your things?" he asked.

"Yes," Angela said, "Everything in the labs is Overwatch property so it didn't take long."

"Uhuh," Jack nodded, "And all the research."

"I collected all the notes that weren't already public knowledge," Angela said. She still hadn't visibly acknowledged Jack. "Everything has been taken care of."

"Those papers?"

"Oh, these?" Angela said, "Just some invitations from some Swiss institutions."

"Well, it's good to know you won't be out of a job for long," Jack replied.

"I suppose."

Jack cleared his throat. "Angela."

"Hmm?" she barely tore her eyes from the papers.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Angela finally set down the papers. "I'm fine," she said.

"Okay," Jack chuckled, "That's good. I didn't really want to have another awkward conversation." He smiled.

"Jack," Angela said, "I'm leaving."

"Oh?" Jack said, "You mean you're going out of country?" He tilted his head.

"No, Jack." Angela had a terrible look on her face as she spoke. "I mean I can't stand to be here any longer." She stood up. "I already packed everything." She pointed to a suitcase near the door. Jack hadn't even noticed it. "I'm going to say my last goodbyes and then go."

"So soon?" Jack asked.

Angela nodded. "I can't cling to hope like everyone else. I just have to move on." She came out from behind the desk and walked up to Jack.

"Well, alright, I can understand that," Morrison replied.

"Jack," Angela got really close to him, "I think this is the last time we're going to see each other."

"So," Jack slowly said, "This is goodbye, huh?" He wasn't quite sure how to feel about this. The realization that he might never see Mercy again was troubling.

Angela leaned in close. She placed her hands on Jack's shoulders and gave him a little peck on the cheek. "Goodbye, Jack." She picked up her suitcase.

"Wait," Jack stammered. At that moment, Jack couldn't let Angela go. With all the heated emotions fluttering around in his brain, he wasn't sure exactly why, but he wouldn't waste the time remaining. "At least let me walk you out," was all he could say, "I'm heading in that direction anyways."

Angela nodded. "Okay," she said. Her voice almost seized up at the end of the syllable. They walked out of the room together.

Meanwhile, Tracer had finished gathering her possessions and thought she felt a bit peckish. Still feeling the weight of the circumstance, she was naturally inclined to distract herself. Food was certainly an aimable distraction, so she went to the cafeteria. It was saddening to see the benches empty and deserted although Overwatch agents would rarely eat there together. As she made her way into the kitchen, Lena saw Winston surrounded by ingredients and cooking utensils.

"Hmm, let's see," Winston mumbled, "Wait when am I supposed to heat the oven? Oh, why is this so hard for me!"

"Winston?" Lena said, "What are you doing?"

Startled, Winston spun around, knocking a cookbook to the floor. "Oh, uh, I was just, uh…"

Lena skipped over to Winston. "Were you trying to bake something?" she said knowingly.

Winston sighed. "Okay, look," he said, motioning her closer, "I wanted to surprise everyone. I thought it'd be nice if we had one last meal together as a family."

"Aw, Winston," Lena cried, "That's a brilliant idea!" She jumped excitedly.

"Okay, shhh," Winston put a finger to his mouth, "Just don't tell anyone, okay? I don't want to ruin the surprise."

"Well, Winston," Lena said, "You're gonna have to tell someone. You can't cook a meal for all the agents by yourself!"

Just then they heard footsteps coming down the hall. "Quick," Winston whispered, "Get down." Both Lena and Winston managed to shove themselves underneath the countertop. The footsteps grew louder until they heard voices.

"You know, I'm going to miss this place Jack," Angela said.

"Yeah, me too," Jack said, "Got a lot of memories of this place." He paused for a moment to gaze out at the sunny lawn; Angela did too.

"It certainly has been memorable," Angela agreed.

"Do you have a favorite?" Jack asked, "Memory, I mean."

"Oh, I don't know," Angela said, blushing, "I remember when Tracer, Winston, and Genji graduated from the academy. That was a great day, seeing them all so happy."

"That's a good one," Jack said with a smile, "Mine's not so circumstantial. It's really a recurring memory. Usually happens once every two weeks or so…"

At that moment Tracer could barely contain herself. "Oh my God!" she said, covering her mouth, "It's happening!" She griped her hands tightly as she shook with a grin on her face all the while.

"Shhhhh!" Winston bellowed.

Jack turned his head. His super-human capabilities weren't just for show: he knew someone was prying. "Did you hear something, Jack?" Angela asked.

Jack turned to Angela. "Troublemakers," he said. Jack crept over to the kitchen window. Looking inside he saw no one but would not be fooled. Under the counter, Tracer and Winston were paralysed with fear; in this moment they were like little children caught in disobedience. Jack vaulted over the counter into the kitchen. His boots stomped the tiles squarely in front of the pair. Jack combed the room with his sensitive vision; his eyes moved like a hawk's. Everything was quiet. The only sound came from the creaking of Morrison's boots. Jack turned around like he was about to vault over the counter again, and then he saw the book on the floor. He grabbed it. Jack read the cover, "1001 Recipes that'll Satisfy a Gorilla. Okay, first off, this title is cheesier than a cheesy crust pizza, and second…" Jack tossed the book under the counter. "You guys really need to refresh your hiding skills."

"Ouch," Winston cried.

"Maybe he's bluffing," Lena whispered, "Let's just stay down here."

"Don't be ridiculous," Winston said. He struggled to get his enormous body out from underneath the counter, but with Morrison's help it didn't take long.

Tracer crawled out, brushing the dust from herself. "Haha, hi Jack," she said nervously. Jack simply shook his head.

Angela spoke up, "What were you two doing down there?" she asked.

"Well…" Winston started.

"Science!" Tracer cried, "We were doing science stuff."

"Oh, yeah?" Morrison said, crossing his arms, "Were you trying to document the lifecycle of the elusive dust bunny?" Angela walked around the cafeteria and into the kitchen.

"Tracer, please," Winston pleaded.

"No!" Tracer retorted, "We were… we were, um… oh! We were testing the five second rule."

"Really?" Jack played along, 'And did it work?"

"Um, no…" she said, "I mean yes!"

"Okay, can we all just stop disgracing the name of science for a minute while I actually explain this?" Winston poised himself.

"Sorry, big guy," Tracer whined.

"Go ahead, Winston," Jack said.

"Okay, look," Winston started, "I wanted to do something special since we won't be together for much longer." Winston surveyed the mess of equipment he had laid out. "I wanted to surprise you all with a meal we could all share together. I wanted us all to be together one more time before this place is gone."

"Yeah," Tracer added, "And I was just passing though, but I found Winston, and I sorta ruined his plan, and I'm really sorry, but Winston's idea was really cool, and now I feel bad because I may have given away the surprise, and... " Lena slumped over. "I'm sorry."

Jack lowered his arms. He looked around at the ingredients Winston had laid out. The monkey was just one agent, yet he had such love and devotion to the people here that Jack was astounded. Morrison wasn't the only one to notice.

Angela held one hand over her mouth as she struggled to breathe. Her eyes were inflamed, and tears began to slide down her cheeks. Losing her composure, she suddenly lunged at Tracer and Winston. "Come here," she wailed. She enveloped them in her arms. Tears flowed down and mingled with Winston's fur and Tracer's hair. "I'm amazed you would want to do something so nice for all of us! I… I love you guys so much!"

Winston wasn't quite sure what to do. He patted Angela's back, "There, there."

"Aww," Lena cooed as she snuggled up to Angela, "We love you too mo.. Mercy!"

The group hug was a picturesque moment. Smiling, Jack gave Lena a thumbs up. Lena winked, returning the thumbs up.

Angela eventually withdrew from the entanglement as she regained control of her breathing. "Now," she said, inhaling deeply, "If we're going to do this we need to get started right away!"

"What?" Tracer said, "You mean, we're doing this?"

"Yes!" Angela cried, "You weren't planning to do this all by yourselves, were you?" A bright smile returned to Angela's face.

Winston bowed his head. "I'd be glad to have the help."

"Whoo!" Lena shouted, "We're doing this!"

Jack chuckled. "Leave it to Winston to get us all excited about cooking."

"C'mon, Jack!" Lena said, "You've got the book, so you can relay instructions!"

Jack smirked. "Careful now," he said, "I have a bad track record of making people jealous when I get a promotion."

"Oh, Jack," Angela snickered, "It's not like you were going to cook anyways."

"Uh, excuse me," Jack said, "I'll have you know that I can cook just fine, thank you."

"Mhmm," Angela said mockingly, "Who's jealous now?"

Jack opened the cookbook. "Alright," he said, "Let's just get started."

The others all shared a laugh at Jack's expense, but before long they were hard at work. One might imagine that these military-level heroes were all thumbs when it came to food: Jack certainly hadn't been trained in the culinary arts. Nevertheless, these legends weren't lifeless drones always pursuing singular callings. They had passions and skills like most other human beings (and hyper intelligent primates). These facets of life go without saying, but humans lose sight of such things.

Once all the preparations had been made, Jack asked Athena to direct all the agents to the cafeteria. A bustling crowd took form; Lena and Winston felt a sense of anticipation building. So many agents struggling with that same grief were gathered here. Winston believed that with the reuniting a sprout of healing might be seeded. Instilling that hope in every agent's heart was his purpose.

Eventually, Jack, Lena, Winston, and Angela stood before the agents. The agents were curious to know why they had been summoned. Morrison moved to address the group and then thought of a better idea.

"Winston," he said, "It was your idea. You should speak to the agents."

"Me?" Winston said, quite surprised, "Are you sure?"

"Of course," Jack replied, "I believe in you. I know you can do it." He patted Winston's shoulder as they exchanged positions.

Winston cleared his throat. "I joined Overwatch because I thought we could make a difference. I thought we could show the world that life matters and imagine a better future. Now those people we thought we were protecting have turned on us." He heaved a great sigh. "They've told us that what we do is illegal, that they don't need us. I'm sure we're all feeling that same sense of defeat. We've been attacked, corrupted, accused, and convicted." Winston shifted nervously. "Some of you probably think that Talon has won. They've convinced the world to tear us apart. After Overwatch is gone, nothing will be left to stop them." Winston growled. "Well, I'm not going to give up just because people tell me I cannot do good anymore. If they want me to stop helping people, they'll have to chain me up themselves." Winston's words were met with a few vigorous cheers from the agents. "We may never be together again in this place, but this place and its dream will live on in each of us. There are people out there right now who need protection, who need saving. When we leave this place, we won't be restricted by Overwatch regulations; we will be in the midst of the people who need us the most. If we forget why we came here, that's when our enemies win. Let's bind together so our purpose is never forgotten, so we are never alone! Even without all our fancy equipment, the world still needs the hope we carry. We can be that light." The agents applauded, giving shouts of encouragement. "These may be our final moments together. Let's cherish them. We've prepared food for everyone." Winston motioned to the kitchen. Now everyone was excited. Words were one thing, but tactile nutrients seems to rouse people with greater ease.

In a matter of minutes, the agents eviserated the smorgase board before them. They were laughing and cheering and having a delightful time. The gathering acted like they were living in Overwatch's golden age. It seemed that Winston had truly reignited the passion within each agent's heart. Maybe the world wouldn't be such a desolate place after Overwatch. At least there was hope.

Jack finally took a seat, his face beaming with joy. "Careful, Jack," Angela said, "People might stop thinking you're intimidating." She sat close to him, sporting her bright smile.

As Jack looked at her, he couldn't help but smile too. "I think my commanding days are over, Angela."

"Aw, seems like a waste of talent," Angela said in a mocking tone, "You sure know how to boss people around."

Jack laughed. "And what about you?" he asked, "Are you going to take a job in country, or are you going somewhere else?"

"I'm not sure yet," Angela responded, "I have to sort out some personal matters first."

"Ah," Jack nodded, "Well, we should have a discussion about it later then. I have some old contacts that might get you into a high-end research facility."

Angela's smile faded a little. "Oh, alright. Did you have some work to do?"

"Yes," Jack responded blankly, "One last piece of business to take care of, I'm afraid."

"Well, good luck with that," Angela said.

"Thanks, doc."

"Ugh, stop."

Jack just laughed as he walked away.

A WHILE LATER…

Jack's armored vehicle rounded the curvy road deep in the Swiss forest. His conscious would not allow him to abandon this project to the whims of bureaucratic processing. The sheer power of the reactor could be a catalyst for unimaginable weapons of destruction or the basis for a bomb. Despite that Overwatch intended the fusion technology to be used for the empowerment of the world, Jack was unable to trust the outside players to properly safeguard the facility.

He parked the vehicle in a patch of dirt just off of the cabin. As he pulled the keys from the ignition, Jack saw two armed guards standing outside on the front steps. In addition to the dubiousness of their behavior, the guards were violating protocol being outside. Jack didn't have the patience for this: not here, not now. He scowled and hopped out of the transport. The guards gave Jack a curious glance on approach. One had enough foresight to salute.

"What are you doing away from your post?" Jack asked in a stern voice.

"Facility's been shut down, sir," said the guard, "No Overwatch personnel are allowed inside."

"On whose authority?"

"The UN's, sir."

"The regulation in place states that these facilities will be shut down hours from now," Jack responded, "I think you'd better step aside, soldier."

"I'm sorry, sir," the soldier said plainly, "I can't do that."

"Move! That's an order!" Jack shouted, "You aren't prepared for what happens next."

"Honestly, sir," said the guard, "I don't think you are either." He gripped his rifle, and the cobalt frame glistened in the light. As Jack's eyes darted to the weapon, he saw a shining pendant dangling from the soldier's waste: a circle with an animal skull in the center. The logo was all too familiar being quite fitting that it should mirror yet distort Overwatch's own insignia.

Jack released the tiniest laugh. "Alright," he said, "I get it." He turned away from the guards and walked back to his vehicle.

As he reentered his car, the guardsmen contemplated the encounter. "Think he'll be back?" one asked.

"Definitely," said the other.

"Should we radio it in?" Jack's vehicle slowly pulled away from the cabin.

"Yeah, but first we should switch to heat vision. I have a feeling he might try something more subtle."

"Right." The guards took goggles attached to their packs and strapped them to their heads.

The one soldier grabbed his radio. "Wait, did you hear that?" he said. The loud roar of an engine fast approached. Suddenly, Jack's vehicle came bursting from the shadowy forest directly at the men. They attempted to flee, but their effort was for naught. The armored vehicle pinned the two guards against the cabin. Metal and wood shattered as the speeding car broke against the shack. The vehicle was totaled, and smoke rose from the engine. Other than some fractures in the wood, the cabin remained unharmed; its structure was reinforced beyond its outer appearance.

Jack lifted himself out of the grass and dirt. He had jumped from the vehicle just prior to its collision and thus received nothing more than a few scrapes and some forest muck as penance. The two guards lied unresponsive on the malformed hood of the vehicle. If they did wake, they probably wouldn't have any feeling below the waist. Dusting himself off, Jack was left with the task of entering the cabin. While the guards no longer inhibited him, the vehicle now blocked the doorway. Jack managed to wedge himself between the door to the cabin and the armored car. For a man of his strength, prying the vehicle away from the structure wasn't impossible. He pushed the car away with his legs, creating just enough space to stand.

Jack turned and looked into the window. A mechanical whir echoed inside, but the door did not open. _######,_ Jack thought, _must have changed the locks._ Jack glanced around for another solution. There weren't any other entrances to the cabin, but he thought he might be able to use a different key for the eye scanner. The two unconscious guards would happily loan their eyes to the commander. Jack hefted one of the bodies onto its feet and then stretched its eye open in front of the window. Another whirring noise was heard, but this time the door hissed open.

Dropping the body, Jack stepped inside to a pool of blood. The guardsmen who were supposed to keep this facility secure lied in heaps. Splatters of blood decorated the positions where the men had once stood. The life of these soldiers spilled onto the floor and, a deep crimson now stained the soles of Jack's boots. The cabin reeked of death, but Jack wasn't repulsed. A fury lit up inside him. His wrath wasn't about revenge; it was about justice.

At the other end of the room, the light of the elevator illuminated the massacre. The descent called to Jack. Whatever awaited him below had to be stopped at any cost. If this was the death wrought by the desire of the power in the reactor, the destruction to follow would be untold. A grimness upon his face, Morrison entered the elevator and began his trek into the deep.

Meanwhile, the other Overwatch agents had been enjoying themselves. Reveling in each other's company, the agents had adopted some closure, but each still had to form his own path. One by one the agents dispersed. Eventually only four remained: Lena, Winston, Angela, and Torbjörn.

The Swedish man approached Winston with a smile. "Winston, I think you've done it again," Torbjörn said, "Just when everything was looking bleak, you found a way to turn things around."

Winston chuckled. "Thank you, sir," he said, "That means a lot."

"Ah, ya gave me back some hope," Torbjörn replied, "It's the least I owe ya."

Lena hopped up as she nibbled on a pastry. "Mmm, I never knew cooking could be so fulfilling!"

Angela snickered. "Well when you eat so much," she said, "it tends to have a filling effect."

"Oy!" Lena cried, "Was that a jab, doc?" She pointed a sugary finger at Miss Zeigler.

"Now, now," Winston interjected, "The doctor is only thinking of your health."

"Winston!" Lena reprimanded, "I'm in perfect health. If you haven't noticed, I'm certainly not overweight." She did a little bow, gesturing to her figure.

"Ah, let's give the girl some credit," Torbjörn added.

"Yes, thank you," Lena said.

"After all," he continued, "If I could go back in time at will, I would also eat a lot more." Winston laughed.

Lena huffed. "You guys are terrible." Torb and Winston both chuckled. Tracer tried to ignore their gesting, but her hyperactive personality couldn't be contained for long. She looked at Mercy who was quietly smiling. "You did this," she whimpered.

"I did?" Angela asked disbelievingly.

A bitter smile crackled over Lena's face. "Well, two can play at this game," she said, "Let's talk about you and Jack."

"Oh, Lena," Angela sighed, "What could you possibly say that I haven't already heard?"

"Probably nothing," Lena continued, "But I can tell you want you can't seem to figure out for yourself."

"Ohoho?" Angela laughed, "Let's hear it."

"Uh, ladies?" Winston attempted to intervene, "Is everything okay?"

"Well, to start, we ought to talk about Jack," Lena said, "He's clearly infatuated with you. I mean, he goes out of his way to be concerned about you. Even Winston and myself don't walk together as much as you two do."

"Oh, please," Angela said, "There have just been a significant number of cases requiring my medical expertise as of late."

"Well, aside from that, just today the two of you had a very conspicuous conversation, and I managed to catch the tail end of it," Lena said. Angela's face got a bit brighter. "I thought it was quite interesting, what Jack said. I just can't quite remember…"

"Lena," Winston interposed, "You shouldn't."

"Winston, you remember, don't you?" Lena asked, "What were they talking about?"

"Oh no," Winston said, "Don't drag me into this."

"C'mon, Winston," Lena encouraged, "Play along!"

Winston sighed. "Something about memories."

"Ah, right!" Lena cheered, smiling gleefully, "Their favorite memories! Jack didn't quite get to finish his thought before we cut him off though. A shame."

"What are you getting at, Lena?" Angela questioned, a hint of anxiety in her voice.

"Isn't it obvious?" Lena cried, "Jack was about to say the sappiest sentence of his whole life! You're his favorite memory!"

Angela blushed. "Uh, I don't know about that," she stammered.

Lena snuggled close to her. "Look at you gushing over him! Oooh! It's too juicy!"

Torbjörn grunted. "Lena," he said, "When are you going to get a boyfriend?"

"Oh my God, what?" Lena cried.

"Ya go around tryin' to match-make people like a flippin' fairy! You've got to release all that pent up romantic energy somehow. Why not find a person who actually appreciates the attention?"

Winston nodded. "Now that you mention it," he said, "I think a partner would calm Lena down quite a bit."

"Oh my God... you guys!" Lena shouted. Her cheeks turned a cherry red.

"Ya know," Torb continued, "I bet she's already got a beau to fancy. I wonder who it might be."

Winston scratched his head. Only a moment later he said, "I bet it's Jesse."

Tracer bit her lip. "Stooooop!" she yelled, "Please!"

"Nah," Torb added, "I think it's Genji."

"Oh, wow, yeah," Winston concurred, "I didn't even think about him."

"Uwagh!" Lena moaned in disgust. She turned, red eyed, to Angela. "I'm sorry, okay! I'm sorry! Just end my misery!" She collapsed to the ground.

"Oh, Lena," Angela sighed, "Always getting into trouble. It's okay. I forgive you."

Lena turned up her teary face. Sniffling, she asked, "Still love me?"

Angela smiled. "Of course." They embraced each other, Angela patting Lena's soft hair.

Then a female voice echoed over the intercoms. "Excuse me, agents," Athena said, "I apologize for the interruption, but I have an urgent alert. Several aircraft are approaching from the North-East. They have not responded to my hails, and I can only assume that whatever approaches has ill intent. Please take precautions. I have already primed the defenses, but for now, I will let you know if the situation changes. Thank you."

"That doesn't sound good," Winston said.

"I hope the UN has morticians!" Torb said, "Because they're going to find a lot of dead bodies when they get here!"

Tracer sighed. "I'll head to the armory," she said.

"Great!" Torb shouted, "That'll give us time to set up some barricades."

"Excuse me," Angela interjected, "Shouldn't we just head to one of the bunkers?"

"And let Talon ransack Overwatch?" Torb grunted, "Really doc, if you're so worried, the bunkers are probably much safer." He almost shooed her along.

Angela's face stiffened. "I'm not going to leave you here," she spoke with conviction.

"Alright then," Winston said, "It's settled."

At the same time miles away, Jack exited the elevator. The long cement corridor leading to the control room stretched out before him. The cool underground air tensed his muscles as he walked into the facility. Up ahead, he could clearly see the pitch black outline of a person juxtaposing the glow of the reactor core and the sporadic flickering of the controls. Jack wasn't certain of what to think. Gabriel Reyes, a man he once knew, had turned so maliciously evil that Jack could scarcely reconcile this phantom with his fellow officer. Now watching him just silently staring at the wavering glow of the reactor made Jack believe that a part of Reyes was also shocked by this.

"I knew you'd come here," Gabriel said in a low, melancholy voice.

Jack shivered with spite. "What have you done, Reyes?"

"You know exactly what I've done," he replied, "I've taken back everything you stole from me." He gracefully gestured to the control systems around himself.

"I never took anything from you," Jack retaliated, "I was your friend. Everything I've ever done to you was to help you."

Reyes turned around, a scowl on his face. "You didn't want to be commander, I did!"

"You think I had a choice in the matter?" Jack said, "I was chosen because you were reckless."

Gabriel smirked. "Who are you calling reckless, Jack? At least I got results."

"You put people in danger!" Jack shouted.

"I did what was necessary," Reyes confidently refuted.

Jack clenched his fists. "Was torture necessary, Reyes? Was extortion?" he said, "No, those things weren't necessary; they were evil. Everything you did in Blackwatch was for you and not for Overwatch."

"Congratulations on figuring that out," Reyes replied, "But I guess you didn't really since I gave you the information."

"So it was you," Jack said. He had thought the little, trifling fact was insignificant, but at the moment the knowledge only served to stoke Jack's fury. "You brought down Overwatch."

Reyes continued, "Like I said, I'm taking everything back. Now you will feel the pain I've experienced all these years."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Jack replied. He pulled out his sidearm and pointed it at Gabe.

Reyes chuckled. "What? Are you going to shoot me?" he asked flippantly, "Better to just run while you still have the chance."

Jack stared down the barrel of his gun. All the infighting, all the bitterness flowed to the surface as he contemplated killing Gabriel. This man had betrayed Overwatch, killed his agents, and done everything that Morrison had warded himself against, yet Reyes had once been Overwatch. They had fought together and freed the world from Omnic apocalypse. Jack discharged his weapon.

Gabe sidestepped just as the bullet was released. It zipped past his leg puncturing the metal plates behind. Reyes lifted his shotgun from his side; he hid it well within his coat. The blast echoed throughout the reactor. Jack's gun bounced out of his hand and fractured on the hard floor.

Gabriel smiled. "You went for my leg. How predictable," he said with condescension, "Always trying to play the hero. Too bad my gun pulled to the left or you might have lost an arm."

Jack lifted his hands in astonishment. "What're ya gonna do, Reyes? Gonna kill me now?"

Reyes chuckled. "Don't tempt me," he said, "No, that'd be a great way to hurt Angela, but she's not worth the trouble. I'd much rather have things the other way around."

Jack scrunched his face. "Well, if you think you're just going to march in and capture my agents, you'll be surprised."

"Jack, I've got plenty of help," Gabe said with a sigh, "I don't need your ignorance added to the list."

"Just end it!" Jack shouted, "Or I will."

Gabriel just laughed. "I'm not done with you yet," he said, "First, I'm going to extract the reactor core, then we'll play. Right now, I just need you out of the way for a little bit." He turned to the control panel, setting one of his shotguns aside.

Jack's strategic senses came alive. Knowing he had little time left, he capitalized on Reyes arrogance. Jack lunged at Gabriel like a cheetah on an antelope. Reyes spun around as quick as he could, but Jack was already grasping his face. Reyes pulled the trigger on his gun. Jack didn't flinch; instead, he socked Reyes across the face with the force of a gorilla. Being momentarily stunned, Reyes viewed a swaying room through glazed eyes. Jack then locked his arms around Gabe's neck. Reyes convulsed, sending them both to the floor, yet Jack Morrison held tight. Gabriel struggled to shout through gritted teeth, but he had no air to expel. In only a few moments, Reyes went unconscious.

Jack screamed as he threw Gabriel's limp body off of himself. He looked down. His leg was covered in crimson stains. Blood pooled around him as he tried to pressurize the wound. Though not the worst case scenario, Reyes' shot had rung true, and placed Jack in a dire situation. He certainly couldn't escape in this condition. Jack glanced at the wall where a small box of medical supplies hung. He laboriously shifted along the floor and used the wall to prop himself upright. Rummaging through the medical box, Jack found a biotic injector and some gause. With one hand on his bleeding leg, he bit the cap off the injector and stabbed himself near the injury site. Shaking, he pressed down on the plunger. The biotic particles dispersed into his body, and a sweet wave of relief came as the nanotechnology neutralized the pain. Having unburdened himself, Jack set about dressing the wound. He might not have been a medical expert, but he knew how to treat basic combat injuries. Once his leg was properly bandaged, he looked at Reyes' unconscious body.

After this man had ruined Overwatch and endangered countless people, Morrison still reluctantly held to his vague morality. Jack could gun down thousands of soldiers in the heat of battle, but whenever outright slaughter was avoidable, he risked his safety for a more communal justice. Jack was trying to do what society deemed appropriate: kill combatants, capture criminals. The simplistic rules to which humankind held their defenders did not account for the multitude of human ideals. If Jack had not been so lucky, Reyes might have blown half of Switzerland into the sky. Killing him outright may have saved millions of lives, yet Jack had intended to merely wound him.

So many agents of differing ideologies served under Commander Morrison. An agent like Lena certainly would not have been able to gun Gabriel down in cold blood. Angela would have hovered in a paradoxical state stuck between not harming Reyes and preventing the use of an atomic weapon. Jack worked closely with these people, but he was teetering on the edge of vigilantism.

Jack stood but wobbled around in a stupor. He leaned against the control panels. For now Jack had enough allowances to permit Reyes' existence; he just hoped he was making the right choice. Jack hit a series of buttons on the control panel and initiated the shutdown sequence.

Meanwhile Tracer darted into the cafeteria. "Alright!" she said, "That's the last of 'em"

"Very speedy as usual," Winston lauded.

"Hey, here's your caduceus thing, doc," Lena said, tossing the staff to Angela.

Dr. Zeigler gracefully plucked the staff from the air as it returned to her hands. "Thanks."

Torbjörn chuckled heartily. "Talon's in for a big surprise!" He marveled at the turret he had just forged and positioned inconspicuously behind some overturned tables.

"Uh, Torby?" Lena inquired, "Isn't that turret kinda pointless behind cover?"

Torb laughed. "You just wait and see!" he said smiling, "This baby's gonna send those Talon dimwits right back where they came from."

Lena shrugged. "Okay, if you say so."

Suddenly the screaming sound of multiple jet engines zoomed overhead. The aircrafts flew so close that the building vibrated. The furniture heaped up around them shook and rattled. Lena looked nervously to her friends. Then several loud explosions pierced their ears. The display screens around them flickered for a moment and then became dark. The sounds of ventilation and refrigeration faded gradually until all was quiet. Athena proceeded to fill the void. "Switching to emergency power. Automated defense systems offline. All agents please get to safety. You will be on your own from this point."

"Looks like the guests are here," Winston said, "Athena? Have they breached the facility yet."

"The monitoring systems are offline," she responded, "Knowing their tactics, I assume Talon will be with you shortly."

"Everyone disperse," Winston said, "We'll surprise them." Winston hopped to a heightened position while Tracer and Torb hunkered down behind some tables. Angela hid behind them.

Only a few moments passed before several soldiers clad in black combat armor crept into the cafeteria. Sunlight gleamed on the dark plating the soldiers wore, so they appeared ghastly in the light. Their hardened boots tapped the metal flooring in procedural patterns, but the soldiers moved subtly. Each one held automatic rifles as they scanned the room. When the last soldier in the squad entered the cafeteria, Winston initiated on his opportunity.

Winston came crashing down on a soldier at the rear of the company, flattening him. The other soldiers turned towards the commotion. One shouted, "Monkey!" Winston tossed the soldier he had subdued into his comrades, knocking a few away. The Talon men began firing, but Tracer was apt to engage the distracted soldiers.

Lena jumped from behind a table and propelled herself into the fight. A few short bursts from her pistols was enough to divide the squad's attention. Winston swung his mighty arms at the soldiers while shielding himself from gunfire. As Lena and Winston forced the soldiers into a huddle, the soldiers ceased all sensibilities. Their aiming became irrational and they refused to focus on a target. Winston sent a few soldiers sprawling with an unanticipated strike. Lena had them spinning wildly, and she managed to disarm one soldier with an upward kick to the face.

Once the last few soldiers were back to back, Winston leapt at them. The minimal suppressing fire from the soldiers would not dissuade this ape. He stunned one soldier with a punch and then proceeded to use his body as a club. The other soldiers were quickly battered and smacked to the ground. Finally the gunfire halted, and the squad was left unconscious on the floor.

Torbjörn peeked over the barricade in front of him. "Is it over already?" he said in disbelief. He carefully scouted the room. Tracer and Winston rapidly examined the bodies around themselves for signs of consciousness but found none. Then Torbjörn noticed another threat. "Get out of there!" he shouted.

Winston looked back to the doorway in time to see several more soldiers flanked by an armored exo-suit wearing trooper. The short bursts of gunfire from the soldiers were soon accompanied by the whirring noise of a heavy gatling gun. The exo-suit soldier unloaded an unholy amount of firepower onto Winston. Winston leapt as fast as he could, but he was overpowered by the downpour of bullets. He slid across the ground, barely reaching cover, and his glasses slid to the floor.

"No!" Lena cried. She was not immune to gunfire either however. The soldiers then turned their attention to her and sent her darting for cover. She easily outpaced the soldiers' shots, but Lena spent a significant portion of her time manipulation energy doing so. Lena plopped beside Winston. His fur was disheveled, and he was covered in bullet wounds. His whole body shook violently with every breath. Lena almost cried at the sight. "Don't worry big guy," she said, reassuring herself as much as Winston, "You'll be alright." Lena looked around for help, but the other agents were also pinned down.

The Talon mercs began pushing towards their prey. The exo-suit soldiers stomped forwards. The huge metal framework encasing the trooper resounded each time it took a step. The soldier laughed maniacally as he continued to unleash bullets whizzing past the Overwatch agents' heads.

Torbjörn glanced around to his comrades. No one seemed in able condition but himself. This was his moment: an opportunity for his handicraft to shine. He exhaled as he prepared to unhinge the power of his tools. With a swift flick of his hand, Torb sent his personal forge systems into overload. His armor began to glow, and his turret shook with energy. The Swede stood up, turned around, and flipped the table he was hiding behind.

The Talon soldiers turned all their firepower upon Torbjörn. The hailstorm of bullets was absorbed into his superheated body, and he remained relatively unaffected. With a bezerk roar, he charged at the soldiers. His turret also let loose a flurry of bullets. The unarmored soldiers were quickly dispatched; one clumsily attempted to run for cover but was soon eliminated by turret fire. Despite this, the exo-suit soldier remained stalwart. "Is that all you have?" he said mockingly.

Luckily Torbjörn was only getting started. Tanking the brunt of the trooper's bullets, Torb leapt at the soldier and rapidly discharged his rivet gun into the suit mainframe. Molten fragments soon punctured the armor plating. The trooper desperately attempted to dislodge the stout engineer, but Torbjörn would not release his hold. The soldier struggled to breathe as the suit was filled with hot rivets. After a few salvos from his weapons, Torbjörn crippled the exo-suit. The metal husk collapsed to the ground with a thud. The soldier within passed out from the overheating caused by Torbjörn's fury.

As the smoke cleared, Torb collapsed onto his knees. His body returned to normal, and the heated glow dissipated. He gasped for air. The fabricated energy that left his body had to be replaced with more sustainable sources. Torb certainly wouldn't be doing that again until he had a good meal. He wiped the sweat from his brow and stood back up. Once more the room was quiet. Even Torbjörn's turret seemed to be exhausted.

Seeing that the cafeteria was clear, Mercy rushed to Winston's side. "Hold on, Winston," she said, readying her staff, "You're going to be okay." Winston did not have the energy to respond but wheezed in a hushed tone. Angela trigger the healing beam from her staff. The nano particles automatically swarmed over Winston's battered frame. The yellowed glow of the restoring technology warmed Winston's injuries, and gradually the wounds and notches in Winston's skin were buffed away. The nano particles simmered over every inch of the gorilla, giving him a vibrant hue. As the restoring effect entered full swing, Winston rose from his debilitated position.

With a reenergized grunt, he said, "Thank you, Dr. Zeigler."

Angela pulled her staff away when she was satisfied with Winston's condition. She nodded humbly. "You're very welcome," she chimed.

Lena survey her primal friend with renewed perspective. She raised his glasses which had previously tumbled to the floor in the fight. "Here ya go big guy," she said, sliding the frames onto Winston's face.

He adjusted his glasses. "Thanks," he said, "That was a close one."

Lena smirked. "Good thing Torby had it covered!"

Torbjörn waddled over to the group. "Ah, I'm just doing what an engineer does best: making things go 'boom'!" He chuckled. "You kids didn't do bad either."

"Wha? Didn't ya hear?" Lena said joyfully, "Winston's an animal!" Angela and Winston both laughed.

"My God," Torbjörn cried, "Even Jack isn't this bad!"

"Say?" Winston interrupted, "Where is the Commander?"

Angela piped up, "He said he had some business to take care of."

"Mmmm," Winston contemplated, "We had better go after him then."

"Best to get a move on," Torb concurred.

Just then a shattering noise invaded the room. Tiny glass shards danced on the floor around them. Looking up at the ceiling to the glaring sun, they saw more Talon mercenaries descending directly upon them. Gunshots rang out. Bullets skimmed around the agents, and several hit Torbjörn's turret dead on. In mere seconds, the group was surrounded by hostile terrorists.

The soldiers shouted wildly at them. "Get your hands up!" one commanded, "Weapons on the ground!"

"You're surrounded!" another shouted.

Winston glanced furiously between the soldiers. Believing there was no viable escape, he resigned to the power of his enemies. "Do what they say," he grunted. Lena reluctantly lowered her pistols to the floor. Torbjörn gave an angry huff as he tossed his rivet gun down. Angela, though not having any significant combat capabilities, placed her staff on the floor as well.

After the agents had relinquished their defenses, one soldier squeezed his radio. "Captain, we've captured some agents and the doctor." Rifles were trained on the agents' heads. The tension radiating from the Overwatch agents had every Talon man on high alert.

A moment passed before a response returned from the radio. "Well, that sure was fast," a rustic voice replied, "Why it only took you… Hmm, does anyone have the time?"

The Talon soldiers looked perplexedly to one another. It was only moments late that a soldier shouted, "Get down!"

 _Bl-Bl-Bl-Bl-Bl-Blam!_ Six Talon soldiers dropped dead. Immediately, Tracer flipped over her pistols and had them back in hand. Torbjörn snatched his gun up too. The bewildered Talon soldiers were helpless against the unrestrained agents and quickly fell to their fire. After this latest squad was dispatched, the agents looked hopefully to the sky. The rugged gunslinger himself descended from one of the ropes the Talon men had so generously provided.

"Hey there, friends," McCree said with a grin.

"It's good to see you, Jesse!" Winston chuckled.

"Likewise, Winston," McCree replied.

"Nice shooting there, McCree!" Lena cried.

"Thank you, Miss Oxton," Jesse said, tipping his hat, "You folks looked like you could use a hand."

Torbjörn approached Jesse, slapping him on the leg. "Glad to see you haven't lost your touch!"

"Well somebody has to actually shoot guns around here," McCree said in a dismissive tone.

"Ahck!" Torbjörn growled, "And I thought we might finally be rid of the smart #####! Guess I was wrong."

"McCree," Angela added, "Thank you, you really saved us."

"Anytime, darlin'," McCree replied, "But before we start celebratin', we ought to make our escape. I saw a whole lot more Talon boys headed this way."

"C'mon everyone!" Tracer shouted, "Exit's this way!" She ran down the hall and the other agents readily followed.

All the while, Jack watched as the reactor core disassembled. The numerous pipes and cords attached to the central hub detached and retracted. Coolant gases blasted into the air as the reactor systems flushed. Beneath the central hub, a humongous well opened and began flooding with water. Sinking the miniature star at the core was the most reliable way to neutralize the radioactivity and extinguish the reaction. Morrison was safe within the overlooking control room. Only a minute more need pass and the facility would not be of any scientific value to anyone.

Then Jack heard a loud pneumatic hissing to his side. Horrified, he looked to see Reyes sealing himself into the decontamination chamber. A female AI voice announced the chamber's activation. "Decontamination process initialized." Gaseous neutralization agents swirled up around him as the process began. Gabriel was completely unphased; he had a singular task.

Jack darted to the door and peered in through the thick window. Slamming his hand into the door controls, he shouted, "Reyes, what are you doing!? If you go in there, the radiation will kill you!" Reyes didn't flinch. After a few moments, the decontamination finished, and Reyes darted into the core chamber. "######, Reyes!" Jack shouted. He slammed his hand into the controls again and initiated another decontamination. The chamber had to reset before Jack could get inside.

While Jack was held hostage to the safety precautions, Reyes descended an extensive set of metal stairs to the reactor chamber below. The glow from the core was intense on the other side of the glass and the radiation was undeniably interacting with his body. He could feel his cells crackling with bizarre energy. Once his boots hit the grated floor, Reyes could clearly hear the crashing of water into the cistern beneath him. Suddenly, alarms started going off and bright red LEDs began flashing. Reyes looked up to the hub where the core was suspended. The containment mechanisms released the unit containing the reaction core, and another mechanism began drawing the core downward. The little star was about to be destroyed. Reyes ran up a set of tiny maintenance steps towards the glow. As he climbed, his whole body grew weak. An intense sweat came over him, and he started feeling nauseous. Having come too far to relinquish what he had come for, Reyes pushed through the pain as he always did. He reached the core and then tripped and fell onto the pedestal.

Jack had just entered the core chamber. He began rushing down the first set of stairs. "Gabriel, stop!"

Reyes barely had enough energy for a witted remark. "Eat ####, Jack!" he huffed with effort. He latched his hands onto the core containment unit just before it slipped out of sight. He pulled hard, but the mechanism had a tight clasp on the unit. The reason Reyes' hands weren't melting was because the containment unit had been specially designed to shield the heat with a highly energized force field. Reyes couldn't watch as the object of his desire slipped into obscurity, so he pulled out his shotgun.

Jack had just reached the ground floor. Looking up he halted. "Gabe, don't!" he shouted, "You'll kill us all!" Frozen by the impending doom, Jack stood motionless.

Reyes swallowed whatever attachments he had to life and readied his weapon. He could just barely keep the unit visible with one hand. With a few quick blasts, the mechanism released the core containment unit. The core snapped out of its moorings, and Reyes cuddled the device in his arms. As he gazed longingly at the astronomical power source, the containment unit began to fracture. The unit obviously not meant for extensive travel, but furthermore, Reyes had damaged the containment field with his gun.

"Put it back, Reyes!" Jack screamed, "Don't let it break!"

However, Reyes didn't care. Now he had all the power of the world almost literally in his arms. The device rattled and cracked violently. A loud electromagnetic squeal popped out of the unit. Abruptly, the unit flung out of Reyes' grasp as magnetics took full control. The containment field then completely shattered, and a massive sun flare leapt out of the core. The energy spike glowed vibrantly as it carved through steel and concrete like a chainsaw through an upholstered couch. The framework of the facility bent towards the core, and the concrete foundations cracked under the pressure. Jack tumbled to the ground as the floor beneath him shifted. He looked up to see Gabriel standing amidst the glow just before Jack was covered by a concrete slab.

At that time the other Overwatch agents had made their way to the front entrance. Other than the smoke rising from the facility's generator hub, it was a lovely day. The yard looked pleasant with its many monuments and foliage.

"I hope you guys are okay if we ride in my van," McCree said, "Best I could do on short notice."

"Think there'll be room for me?" Winston asked.

"Uh," McCree stammered, "Well, ####…"

Torbjörn sighed. "Well, the garage is just around the corner."

"Hold on, loves," Lena said. She blocked out the sun as she peered into the distance. "What's that coming this way? Is that a…"

"A tank!" McCree shouted, "Get down!" There was a flash of light and an echoing explosion followed by a burst of concrete sprinkling around the group. "Get to cover!"

The agents rapidly dispersed, hiding amongst the stone monuments and fencing. The tank proceed towards the agents firing shell after shell. Explosions erupted around them. Dirt filled the air. "Any ideas, Torbjörn?" Lena shouted.

"Have ya tried shooting it yet?" he asked sarcastically.

Lena peeked from behind her stony shield as another shell rocketed over her head. She quickly returned to her lower position. "No," she said.

"Lena? You got any of those bombs?" McCree shouted. Another tank shot exploded behind him spraying dirt across his hat.

"What? You think I carry around an unlimited supply?" Tracer retorted.

"No," McCree replied, "It'd be nice though."

"Uh, guys!" Winston yelled, "It's getting closer!" The tank would not cease. The winding pathways through the yard would be no hindrance to its treads. In moments the vehicle would be on top of them.

McCree readied his revolver. "Alright, here's the plan. Winston, you see if you can get their attention. Me and Tracer will rush 'em and see if we can break in." Winston and Lena nodded. "Good. Now, we'll go on my…"

Suddenly McCree was flying away. A shell had turned his monument cover into rubble and McCree was sent sprawling into the dirt. As he looked up, the tank rolled towards him. The barrel was pointed directly at him. McCree rolled over, and a sense of defeat washed over him. "Always thought I'd die at the end of a barrel. Just never thought it'd be this big," he mumbled. The tank stopped as it reloaded shells.

Then McCree heard a surprising noise: a stomping so loud the earth shook. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size!" a gravelly voice shouted. An enormous metal hand grasped the barrel of the tank and twisted it away from McCree. Reinhardt, donning his reliable Crusader armor, placed a huge armored boot on the lip of the tank. "Taste true German engineering, Talon fiends!" Reinhardt hefted his hammer into the air. With a mighty roar, he shattered the tank's armor in one swing. The tank jolted as its plating fractured. Smoke rose from the hull, and the tank's engine sputtered to a halt. Then a loud pop emanated from within the husk followed by more smoke and flames enveloping the turret. Reinhardt turned triumphantly to his comrades. "Looks like this old dog can still tussle with the young ones!" he said with a laugh.

"Nice work, Reinhardt!" Lena said.

"We're lucky you showed up!" Winston said cheerily, "Why are you here?"

"Well," Reinhardt said, "I figured if Overwatch was closing its doors, I ought to come and see it off."

McCree got up out of the dirt. "Well, ladies and gentlemen, it seems we're at a sort of homecoming."

"Really?" Tracer bubbled, "When's the dancing start?"

"Right now," McCree said with a grin. He grabbed Dr. Zeigler, who was standing next to him, and dipped her downward.

Mercy squealed with surprise. "McCree! Now's really not the time for this sort of thing!"

"Alright, alright," McCree said releasing Angela, "Wouldn't want to hog the dance floor."

Reinhardt glanced at Torbjörn, and Torbjörn abruptly noticed his intrigue. "Don't even start," Torb grumbled.

"So," McCree continued, "To the garage?"

Before anyone could answer, the earth beneath them shook violently. A flash of light blinded the group, and when they adjusted, they were horrified by what they saw. In the distance an enormous bellowing cloud rose from the earth. The cloud had an otherworldly glow that rivaled the sun at midday. In only a moment they saw the vicinity surrounding the cloud churned up into the air. Debris was flying although they were too far to identify anything within the maelstrom.

"My God!" Reinhardt cried, "What is this?"

"It's the reactor!" Winston shouted, "Something must have gone wrong! Quickly, we must get to a bunker!"

"There's an entrance just across the garden," Torbjörn said, motioning his friends along. The group of agent hurried to the hidden bunker. On arrival, Torbjörn hit a switch under a rock, and a control terminal popped out of the flower bed. He tapped a few buttons to enter a passcode and then waited for the entrance to appear.

"That cloud doesn't look like it's slowing," McCree observed.

Winston watched as the forest in the distance was eviscerated. "What could have caused this?" he contemplated, "The system was stable. Someone must have interfered."

"Ah, damn!" Torbjörn growled as he hit the control panel, "The blasted thing isn't opening! Athena! Can you open the bunker?"

The AI's voice quietly resonated from within the control panel. "The power systems have been damaged. I will need to reroute power to the bunker doors in order to open them. This may take a few minutes."

Torbjörn turned around to gaze at the encroaching glow. "We don't have that much time!"

"I will work more efficiently then," Athena responded.

Meanwhile Angela was breaking down. Aside from the terror of a nuclear weapon striping your skin away, Angela knew that Commander Morrison had to have been at the epicenter of the blast. Logically, it was a reasonable place for Jack to have gone, but Angela wished it weren't so.

"Oh God," she whimpered, "Jack." Tears dripped from her quivering face.

Winston removed his attention from the approaching doom. "What's wrong Angela?"

"It's Commander Morrison," she cried, "He had to have been at the reactor. That was the last bit of tidying. He wouldn't have gone anywhere else. Talon must have met him there and…" She struggled to meld the words together. Saying them was all she could do to convince herself of the truth.

Winston glanced at the cloud. "No," he said, "No, he's still out there."

Suddenly, the quiet rumble of the blast intensified in volume. The pyroclastic cloud was almost upon them. "My friends! Brace yourselves!" Reinhardt shouted, "I will shield you!"

Reinhardt activated his barrier shield as the air around the facility turned to fire. "Athena!" Torbjörn yelled, "Hurry!"

Then an orange, dusty burst of air came rushing towards them. The radioactive concussive blast crackled against Reinhardt's barrier. A small pocket of breathable air remained in his wake. The other agents huddled together as the angel of death passed overhead. The force of the blast was immense. Reinhardt put all his strength into standing upright while his shield absorbed the brunt of the damage. The capacity of his barrier, however, was not infinite. As the nuclear storm intensified, Reinhardt's shield began to decay. Cracks formed in the bright energy barrier; his boots dug into the earth. As the wind whipped past, sparking with energy, Reinhardt's barrier began to flex. White and orange and red flashes pressured the shield. While his shield weakened, Reinhardt began yelling.

"Graaaaaaah!" he screamed. The force of the blast was too much for Reinhardt to resist. His barrier covered the agents from damage, but also provided a large surface area for the whirlwinds to bat against. Slowly, Reinhardt's boots scraped the earth as he slid backwards. "I'm losing control!"

"Hold on, Reinhardt!" Lena cried, "You can't give up now!" She wrapped her arms around Reinhart's bulky leg and gave her best effort to stabilize the giant. The radioactive turbulence howled around them as the stream of debris intensified.

Winston also lended his strength to the endeavor. "Everyone, push together!" he said. Angela and McCree also placed their hands on Reinhardt and began pushing.

Torbjörn glanced frantically at the control panel. Nothing seemed to be responding. "Ah, screw it!" he said. Torbjörn jumped to Reinhardt and began pushing him from behind with great effort.

"The barrier!" Reinhardt shouted, "It's breaking!" Fragments of cement and woods splattered against the shield, and sparks erupted as the barrier's cells of energy dissipated into the ether. Superheated, radioactive waste began to seep between the cracks in Reinhardt's shield. "It can't hold any longer!"

Then a loud hiss caught Torbjörn's attention. A hatch popped out of the ground behind them, and an elevator capsule just large enough to stuff all the agents into appeared. "The entrance!" he cried, "It's open!"

"Go!" Reinhardt commanded. One by one the agents withdrew from his side, ducking into the elevator.

Once Torbjörn and the other agents had retreated, he shouted to Reinhardt, "Alright! Get over here!" Drudgingly, Reinhardt stepped backwards. The blue light of his barrier was now consumed by the radioactive glow. Once he had finally entered the capsule, Torbjörn slammed the descend button.

Reinhardt's barrier fizzled and faded just as the elevator door closed. After a few moments, the elevator brought them to an underground bunker stocked with provisions and survival equipment. All the excitement of the day had exhausted each of the agents, so they sat down to take a break.

Torbjörn consulted with Athena. "Athena will let us know when the danger has passed," he said, "But nobody's going out without radiation protection. Lucky we have some suits here!"

"It will probably be a few hours before we can leave," Angela added.

"That's fine," McCree said, "It'll give me a chance to catch up on some shut eye." He placed his hat over his face as he laid down on a bench.

A sweating Lena sat down next to Angela. "Phew," she said, "That was close, huh?" Angela just smiled weakly. "I'd hate to be out there in that."

"Lena," Winston prodded.

"Hmm?" she chirped.

"Morrison is probably still out there," he said.

"What?" Lena cried, "Oh, no… no, no, no. He…" She looked to Angela. "He must have gotten to a safe zone by the time the blast occurred. After all, there's no one quite as tough as good, ol' Commander Morrison!" She said it almost patronizingly. It was a weak attempt to stabilize her own emotions more than to encourage Angela.

Angela bit her lip. "Yeah, you're right," she said with a timid smile. She hugged Tracer close. The next few hours proved the most impatient of her entire life.

When the agents eventually emerged from the bunker in their radiation suits, Angela was the first to speak. "We must head to the blast site," she said, "If nothing else we must uncover what caused this epidemic." No one disagreed, so they decided to travel to the crater in the midst of the Swiss forest. Some vehicles within the Overwatch hangers were still salvageable, but most of the facility was in ruins. Other agents had also survived, but they were less inclined to investigate.

Driving through what had once been a forest, Angela could barely recognize the remnants of trees that remained. All life here had been extinguished, and that left her hopeless. Nonetheless, she had to know the truth.

On arrival at the blast site, the agents began scanning for points of intrigue. Nothing was recognizable, however, melted and molded by the nuclear blast. The agents were not bomb experts so discovering any sort of initialization point was a hopeless endeavor. Eventually, Reinhardt did uncover a twisted cavern of steel and concrete.

"You must go, doctor," he said to Angela, "I am too large. See if you can find anything buried in the rubble."

So, switching on her headlamp, Angela descended into the dark crevices of the rubble. She made her way cautiously. The ash and wreckage did not form a stable foundation, but Angela proceeded downward regardless.

Eventually, she heard a noise through her helmet that sounded like a crackling fire. As she neared, the sound became clearer, and it was accompanied by a deep, pained growling. Her heart started beating rapidly as her imagination flew away. Whatever made this noise would not be a pleasant sight. _Could someone have mutated into some radioactive creature?_ she thought, _Or is someone being burned by residual radiation?_ The ideas in her head were terrifying. Most of all, she could not bare to see Jack in a debilitated state, not again. Her imaginings, however, did not come close to the reality.

As Angela descended another level, she caught sight of a twisted body caught between two slabs of concrete. She noted the puss-coated, almost bubbling, wounds that striped the individuals backside. The individual breathing was terribly distorted, each breath sounding more strenuous than the last. Only when she approached did she recognize who this person had been.

"Gabriel?" she called out.

The body shifted as it heard the voice. Slowly, Reyes turned his face to identify who had call out to him. When he did, Angela was horrified. "So," he growled through shredded vocal chords, "The doctor is the one who comes to finish me off?"

Angela tried to hide her amazement, but she couldn't within the suit. Reyes' face was a bubbling pool of blackened sludge, yet the cells of his face seemed to move autonomously. The crackling noise she had heard earlier clearly emanated from Reyes' distorted composure. The skin tissue that had once formed his lips had been stripped away, and his coal-black, facial muscles twitched violently.

"Gabriel!?" Angela cried, "Wha.. what happened?" She recoiled away from his hideous appearance.

"Does it matter what happened?" he growled, "We both know that even if you were smart enough to figure it out, you still couldn't leave me like this. You're too weak to make a harder choice."

"What are you saying?" she shouted.

Reyes grunted. "Listen, dumbass, I'm the one who blew up the reactor; I'm the one who sent your precious boyfriend to kingdom come; and I'm the one who's going to hunt down every last one of the Overwatch agents and kill them. Yet here you are, on the precipice of aiding me."

As Angela heard Gabriel speak so bluntly, a bizarre wrath ignited within herself. "No," she said, "No, you're wrong! You're the one who's weak. And if you're still alive, then Morrison must be." She turned from the hideous thing that had once been Gabriel Reyes.

Reyes just laughed. "That's right," he said, "Abandon your precious morals…" He chuckled. "For me." Angela moved as fluidly as she could away from Reyes haunting laughter.

Meanwhile, Jack Morrison was dying. Even in absolute darkness, the agony was ever present. His face burnt with stinging pain, and he felt a massive weight upon his body. Despite being deep underground in a cold and dark place, he felt hot and sweaty. Certainly the radiation had affected his body in ways he could not yet perceive. As he lay there, he thought about how the world outside would fare without him. He was saddened at the loss of his agents and Overwatch, but those things were external purposes. He had yet one regret that stood above the rest.

Then there was a surge of light that nearly blinded him, and he heard an unmistakable voice. "Jack? Jack!?"


	4. Chapter 4: END

Jack Morrison awoke in an unfamiliar place. The first thing he noticed was his inability to move. His muscles screamed when he attempted to reorient himself, but all his limbs were still attached. Jack felt gratitude for that at the very least. The second thing he noticed was the annoying beeps that echoed in his ears. Glancing to his side, he saw a heartbeat monitor along with other medical equipment and some liquids being transfused into his blood. Whatever procedure he was undergoing, Jack thought it far more pleasant than what he imagined a nuclear blast survivor might undergo. Then Jack noticed a third thing: the smell of the place. The room he was in didn't smell like the death and chemicals you'd expect from a hospital. Instead the place smelled quite pleasant.

Jack could decipher the scent far beyond that simple description. The room smelled like a freshly baked doughnut on the cusp of a honeysuckle blossom sprinkled with a pinch of cinnamon. Breathing was amazing. The culinary flavoring of the scent reminded Jack of home a little. Either he had fallen into a Talon brainwashing session, or he had died and gone to heaven. The latter would reveal itself to be closer to the truth.

So many questions were spinning in Jack's mind. _If I'm alive, what happened to Reyes?_ he thought, _What happened to the Overwatch agents I left behind? Where is my family? To what end do I use my renewed life? Who brought me here?_

As he thought and thought, Jack didn't entirely realize that his body was revitalizing the muscles that had been in hibernation. Subconsciously he reached up to scratch his face. When he did however, his hand was met by bristling prickles. Startled, he withdrew his hand. There was a significant amount of stitching on his face. Jack ran his fingers gently across his temple. The scarring ran down the length of his face. He wondered if he would look like the same man when he recovered. His appearance had never been his chief concern though, so he wasn't too dismayed.

When Jack believed he might be able to attempt getting out of his bed, he heard footsteps approaching. Thinking better of trying to exert his full energy, he simply waited. Doctor Angela Zeigler presented herself. She was casually examining some papers as she did and hardly noticed Jack's awareness.

"Angela?" Jack said. His voice sounded the same although a bit strained, so that was a plus.

Angela jumped at the sudden disturbance. "Jack!" she cried, "You're awake!" Her face was half amazement and half delight. She scurried to his side and took a seat in an adjacent chair. "How are you feeling?" she asked, "Is everything alright?" Her breathing hastened.

"Well…" Jack groaned, "I am feeling a bit hungry, and I do have a lot of threads in my face, but other than that I think I'm good."

Angela sighed, relaxing a little. "I'm sorry to see we couldn't fix your sense of humor."

"If it makes people smile every now and again, then I think it's just fine," Jack said smiling.

"The only person who smiles at your jokes is Lena, and her humor is just as bad," Angela retorted, but she was smirking when she said it.

"That's not true," Morrison replied, "Unless those giggles all these years have been a simple courtesy."

Angela laughed. "Ah, it's good to have you back." Her smiled shined brightly.

"Mh, likewise," Jack said, "Now can you tell me the amazing story of how it is I am alive?"

"Ah," Angela said. She righted her posture as any professional would in the presence of a superior. "I was imagining you'd want a situational report. Let's see. Well, when I found you, you were buried deep underground under several layers of compressed concrete. I imagine that accounts for the majority of your survival. Regardless, you still had a lot of injuries; the facial scar is only one of many. Not to mention the significant amount of radiation that had contaminated your system, I'm surprised you survived long enough for transfusions to begin. I'm not sure your hair will ever hold color the same again either."

"Oh no!" Jack mockingly wailed, "My hair! How will I pose for posters now?"

"Well," Angela observed, "I'm sure you could find plenty of young ladies who enjoy that silver shine."

"Eh, I'll leave that department to Reinhardt," Jack said.

"Speaking of our Overwatch friends, most have gone home," Angela added, "Although, I'm not sure what that word means to them anymore, but at least they're safe."

"And Reyes?" Jack asked, "Did you recover him?"

"No," Angela sighed, "Unfortunately we did not recover his body."

Finding no surprise in Angela's response, Jack knew something was amiss, but he decided not to press the issue. "Maybe that's for the best," Jack sighed.

Angela didn't respond immediately; she was reflecting. At the surface she wanted to agree with Jack, but she thought that uncharacteristic of herself. She aptly redirected the conversation, "You said you were hungry. Would you like something to eat?"

Jack nodded. "Please," he said.

"I'll be right back," Angela said. She stepped out of the room.

Jack reluctantly remained in his bed. Although Angela had provided a wealth of information, he felt like he was hovering outside of the world. Jack was resting in a nice place without any feelings of responsibility or guilt. The organization that he had forged was a distant dream, and his enemies were nowhere to be found. Honestly, Jack didn't believe he deserved this good fortune.

Angela returned with a tray. "I hope you don't mind. I thought you'd better start with easy foods before you jump into three course meals." With a nervous laugh, she set the tray in front of Jack.

Looking at the tray, Jack saw a bowl of amber broth, some basic crackers, and a cool glass of water. "As long as it's not an MRE, I think I'll be fine," he said. Angela smiled as Jack delighted in the meal. He gathered a spoonful of broth and lifted it to his lips. Jack took a tiny sip but immediately withdrew the spoon from his mouth. "Ah, it's hot." Jack opened his mouth wide, attempting to stabilize the temperature of his tongue.

"Oops," Angela said, "Sorry about that. I had the broth keeping warm on the stove." She smiled timidly.

"The stove?" Jack enquired. He suddenly remembered his interest in his location. "Is this your new living space?"

"For now," Angela responded, "Took some doing to get this apartment. It seems that some people still respect Overwatch agents."

Morrison shrugged. "That's just you," he said, "You always were a doctor before an agent."

"If there was such a significant difference between the two, I would not have joined Overwatch in the first place," Angela said with a laugh.

Morrison wasn't certain what to make of Angela's response. She never admonished any sort of violent action. Perhaps Angela was attempting to convey that Morrison was not the corrupt figurehead that the public had made him out to be. Nevertheless, Jack paused for a moment before his next question. He settled down into his bed. "Angela," he said, "Why am I here?"

Angela fidgeted. "I don't know what you mean," she said.

"I mean," Jack responded, "Why am I not in a hospital?"

"Well, I certainly couldn't entrust your terminal condition to a general medical facility," Angela said, "Aside from that I have a responsibility to my patients."

Jack narrowed his eyes. "That doesn't make sense Angela," he said, "Why go through all the trouble to scrounge up your own equipment, your own apartment just to treat me?"

"My pride isn't enough?" Angela said. She tried to imitate disapproval, but her doubt was palpable.

"Angela," Jack continued, "I know the UN can't be happy about this. They'd probably have me under lock and key with an armed guard."

The façade Angela had established shattered. "They wanted to lock you away, Jack!" she said, "They were going to pin all the blame on you when you clearly haven't done anything to deserve that. I wasn't going to let them have their scapegoat."

"Wow," Jack said with a smirk, "Angela Zeigler breaking the law for me. Never thought that would happen."

"Don't sound so proud of it," Angela cried, "It was the right thing to do, and that's that."

"So," Jack went on, "Am I dead?"

"As far as anyone else is concerned," Angela said, sighing, "you are legally dead."

Jack chuckled. "Well, this is going to make for a nice, dramatic re-entrance."

Angela shook her head. "You're not planning on turning yourself in, are you?"

"Angela," Jack pleaded, "I can't live my life a ghost. The UN will find me, and I can't put you or anyone else in danger because of that. Besides, I am in part responsible for Overwatch; I should account for it."

"Jack, no," Angela said, "Don't be ridiculous! People will stop caring about you as soon as the last Overwatch branch is shuddered."

"I'm not going to…" Jack was cut off by a sudden pain in his chest. Gradually, an intense fit of coughing overcame him.

"Are you okay, Jack?" Angela frantically asked. She grabbed a washcloth and handed it to him for any phlegm that might escape.

Jack's chest felt like a burning log: heavy, hot, and breaking apart. He tried to hold back the responses, but he continued to cough. Eventually the pain expelled itself, and Jack's body settled down. When Jack pulled the washcloth away from his mouth, he saw a bright crimson stain in the white fibers. He looked anxiously to Angela.

Angela took the cloth and crumpled it in her hands. "You've got a long recovery ahead of you," she said, "You should try to get some rest."

Jack, held in a daze of disbelief, just nodded. "Right."

Angela took the tray from Jack and stepped away. "I'll leave you to rest," she said graciously.

When Angela disappeared from the room, Jack rested his head on his pillow. He closed his eyes to pale darkness. His mind was still attempting to grasp the situation. Angela had brought him here and revived him; that he understood, yet the intent behind her actions was still unclear. Even with their semi-flirtatious relationship, faking Jack's death seemed an egregious breach of character for Dr. Zeigler. However, he knew he wouldn't have much choice in the matter until he recovered.

Thinking about this soldier's future, Jack lost himself to a hazy sleep. He dreamt a startling nightmare. For a long while, Jack could see nothing but darkness and everything was silent. He looked to his left and then to his right but saw no one. In a darkness such as this, it was impossible to see, but Jack could sense beyond sight that nothing was nearby. This loneliness grieved him. The empty space on either side should have been filled with friendly bodies: this was how he expected this dreamscape to be. As Jack contemplated his isolation, a warm glow manifested in the distance. At first, Jack saw it as delightful company, but his hopes were quickly dashed. The orange glow was not pleasant light. The rays crackled across Jack's skin like a rolling pin on crackers. The light burnt and blinded unlike anything Jack had experienced, and there was no respite from the glow's advance. As he was overcome by the intense illumination, Jack lost sense of light and temperature, yet his ears became attuned to an invisible reality. Pained screams echoed in Jack's head. He could hear the sounds of people in torture, being burnt. These voices took on life of their own and began to sound dangerously familiar for Jack. He could hear his agents. The sorrowful voices of his comrades cried out to him in their suffering. The world around him shattered; his dearest associates were consumed by nuclear fire. Now his eyes were filled with the visceral image of his friends submerged in flames, and Reyes was just standing amidst them cackling like a madman. These words repeated in the back of Morrison's head, "take everything."

Jack stepped back from the consuming inferno; he felt powerless. Then a distorted voice called out to him from within the fire. "Jack!" He looked down and saw Tracer reaching up towards him. Seeing her burning in the flames was disturbing, but she was more ash than being at this point. "Help us," she wretched.

Jack recoiled as Lena's hand dissolved into his pant leg. Grey flakes covered the ground beneath her. One could hardly tell where Lena ended and the charred earth began. Not only was she camouflaged, but the entire lower half of her body was without form. Then Jack heard a rumbling noise on his other side. When Jack looked, he saw a bulky lump of gleaming coals gestating in the fire. The coals turned to him and spoke, "How could you?" Jack almost immediately recognized the deepened voice to be Winston's. "We trusted you."

"I... I don't know what you mean," Jack stammered. His voice was strangely softened.

Then another voice echoed from within the fire. "Ah! We should have known better!" Jack saw Torbjörn's face reflected in the shimmering flames. He seemed unscarred, but only his angry countenance could be seen through the searing blaze. "He's always shirked his responsibilities, doin' whatever he pleases! He let us down!"

Jack was fearful of the tormenting specters. He felt like he was standing trial before these associates. "I'm sorry," he shouted, "I didn't know I was putting you in danger." The incarnations of his agents did not respond with words, yet they did not embrace Jack either. Torbjörn's glowing eyes turned away, while Lena shuddered and collapsed in upon herself. Winston stood motionless as his body radiated with bright heat.

Then Jack heard Reyes screaming above him. "Reckless!" Jack looked skyward just in time to see shadows drop onto him.

Jack gasped for air as he suddenly reappeared in his bed. The room was dark now, but that didn't encourage Jack to sleep whatsoever. Whatever Jack had just dreamt was far more than wild fantasy meeting mental hurdles. Perhaps his illness had affected his brain in ways that he could not yet perceive. He allowed his head to sink into the fabric as his pulse likewise sank.

As he looked around the room, he noticed Angela sleeping peacefully in the nearby chair. Her head rested idly, propped up by one of her hands while the other cradled some papers in her lap. The scene reminded Jack of brighter days. He remembered the young, ambitious Dr. Zeigler when they had first met. She was so eager and vibrant and oftentimes exhausted herself working around the clock. Occasionally, Jack would find her sleeping on her research documents in her office. If he found her in such a state at night, he would sling a blanket over Angela, but if he noticed she was sleeping in her office when morning came, he would have to wake her up. Angela would always act so embarrassed during those awkward exchanges. She would turn beet red and profusely apologize, but that didn't stop her from working late. Naturally, Angela got over the habit as she matured.

Jack was glad to be here. Regardless of Angela's motivations, Jack knew he was safe in this place. Angela was simply a pleasant and kind person; she never did anything to hurt anyone. She did say a few things in bitterness, but one will ignore that.

All the quietness gave Jack a lot of room for thought. He reflected on his bizarre situation and contemplated what his life might become. Jack could turn himself over to public scrutiny, or he could live within the shadows. There were many questions that stemmed from those choices. Ostensibly, he could be living the rest of his life in prison. Even if Jack could avoid that fate, his life, stretched out before him, seemed like a lonely road.

Consequently, Jack started comparing his future to his immediate situation. The hour was late, and Jack didn't have much to focus his thinking, so his thought wandered. Eventually, he found himself thinking about Angela and not in a practical sense. So many years of working together passed, and Jack had guarded himself from this sort of thing the entire time. Perhaps this was long overdue.

Jack liked the way Angela's silken hair cascaded over her face. Her locks were always impeccably arrayed and complemented her smooth, white face. However, that beautiful visage was for more than appealing to the eye. Angela's own eyes had such vibrancy. They would light up when she greeted a friend and narrow when she found something distasteful. Further still, her smile was like an umbrella on a rainy day: a little bit of joy could protect from a storm of troubles. Nothing was quite as rejuvenating as a happy greeting from Angela.

There were other notable features to Angela. Her hands, for instance, had a certain graceful charm to them. Being a doctor, laying hands on another person was not an unusual occurrence for Angela. How fortuitous then that she possessed a gift of gentle precision. Whenever Angela would use a needle, her hands moved fluidly without distress. Years of practice had trained her hands to operate with the utmost delicacy, yet her training was not solely responsible for her gentle touch. The love and dedication that permeated Angela's being radiated from her tender fingers.

To complement her technical capabilities, Angela had a brilliant mind. She certainly had not been recruited to Overwatch for her appearance. Angela was not merely a pleasant individual but an ingenious researcher, and every ounce of her kindness was espoused in her work. She devoted herself to the betterment of humanity and refused all desire to fight against people. That certainly didn't fit with Morrison's paradigm, but he admired Angela's dedication.

With all those thoughts in Jack's mind, he couldn't help but smile. He really liked Angela. People who were pleasant and trustworthy did not often appear, but Angela exemplified more than these traits. Truly, Angela was a wonderful person to have around. She was a lovely lady and a great friend. As a calming happiness enveloped him, Jack let his eyelids close. He drifted into a pale haze, and the rest of the night was uneventful.

When sunlight began to peek through the blinds, Angela found that she had once again fallen asleep in the middle of examining some papers. _I really need to stop doing this,_ she thought. Every time she had a lengthy read or stack of papers, Angela would excuse herself from processing it until she performed all her other duties. Angela's friends kept telling her to stop over exerting herself, but Angela had a self-sacrificial personality. This was embarrassing, no doubt, but Angela wanted to do all the work she could with what energy she had.

Angela folded the paper in her lap. It was a letter from another medical research institution requesting her skills. She had plenty of paths to further her career, but research wasn't why she entered the field. Angela always wanted to help people. That's why she joined Overwatch; that's why she became a medical researcher; that's why she didn't care about the letters. Angela wasn't even sure why she had bothered to read this letter. She had other plans.

Angela groaned as her eyes adjusted to the light. Once the room was no longer a monochrome blur, Angela looked at Jack's startlingly pale face in the dim light. The stitching across his face made him appear like a monster out of a horror story. If Angela had been a more rudimentary style doctor, one might have mistaken her for a mad scientist and Jack for her creation. _The stitching has to go_ , she thought. At the time, Jack had been in her care for about a week until yesterday, so the sutures were more a nuisance than any benefit. Luckily, there were plenty of methods for removing stitches early.

However, plenty of other chores plagued Angela's day. Food had to be bought, clothes had to be washed, and money had to be spent. Angela was not often responsible for these tasks in her Overwatch days. Nevertheless, she wanted to spend time with Jack. _He's not in good condition yet_ , or so she reasoned, _I can't leave him alone too long._ Her maternal instincts were playing a larger role in her behavior than Angela realized. A man she deeply admired, to say the least, was gravely injured and in need of medical supervision; she could not control herself.

Angela rose from the chair which had so graciously transformed into a bed for the night. Some coffee, a shower, and some clean clothes would be delightful right about now. Jack certainly wasn't going to be causing trouble while he slept, so Angela went to start her morning.

In the main living area, papers were strewn over every surface. The place didn't look very appealing, but that was the least of Angela's worries. Next to a stack of papers detailing the treatment of extreme irradiation, there was a rudimentary coffee maker. Angela slowly fumbled through the drawer, inhibited by her sleep deprivation. Perhaps she had gone one too many nights without a break; she certainly hadn't been relaxing these past few days. Eventually, Angela started the brew. _Time for that shower,_ she thought.

When the warm scent of freshly brewed coffee met with the inspiring perfume of Angela's apartment, Jack was quick to awaken. Jack was relieved to see the sun and not the nuclear fallout haunting his dreams, yet he couldn't shake the memory of the previous night. He wanted to get up, walk out the door, and return to his responsibilities, but his body refused to cooperate. Jack rolled over in bed as he realized how hungry he was. His intestines wretched like a collapsing accordion. Jack wasn't starving, but he couldn't relax with this feeling of emptiness.

Luckily, Angela was one step ahead as usual. She walked into Jack's room with a tray. "Good morning, Jack!" she said cheerily. She wore a friendly smile, and she looked crisp and clean in the soft morning light.

Jack sat up; he was relieved to see the food. "Oh, Angela," he greeted her with a grin, "You're a lifesaver." She passed him the tray.

Angela snickered. "And what would you say if I actually were to save your life?"

Jack hurriedly shoved a cracker in his mouth. "I don't know," he said, "I'm still figuring that out."

"Ah," Angela responded.

Jack was fully immersed in his eating. Angela sat on the bed next to him. One might have thought that this scene appeared very bizarre. Angela was smiling happily watching Jack devour his food, and both were content. With a little more insight, however, the cause becomes clear. With Overwatch out of the picture, all the professionalism that had stood between Angela and Jack was dissolving, yet the years they had spent together forged a cohesive relationship that was not contingent upon a paycheck. Now these emotions both of them were experiencing persisted without explanation or excuse.

"So," Jack said as he was finishing his meal, "I don't suppose you want to spend all your time babysitting me today."

"Well, I could stand to take some time off," Angela said as she ran her fingers over her temple, "But there are a few chores I have to do today." Her head sank down a little, but remembering herself, Angela soon returned to her perky state. "There is one thing I'd like to do that will require your cooperation."

"Oh?" Jack gave Angela his full attention, "How can I be of service?"

Seeing Jack so attentive, Angela smiled. "I was hoping we could remove those stitches. I don't think they're doing you any favors."

Jack chuckled. "I'm not opposed to the idea," he said, "I believe I'm ready whenever you are."

"Great!" Angela said, "I've got the applicator right here." Angela held up what looked like the awkward love child of a hand vacuum and a flashlight. "If you'll just lie down for a minute, this shouldn't take long."

Jack laid back. "Alright, doc, make me beautiful."

"Oh, hush," Angela chastised. She place a finger at the end of Morrison's long scar near the top of his forehead. "You might want to close your eyes for this," she said. Taking the light-emitting medical device, Angela positioned it at her fingertip. Flipping the switch, the device made a little humming noise, and the sutures underneath began rapidly disappearing. Angela moved the applicator steadily over Jack's face. The dark stitches entered from one end and vanished at the other. When Angela brought the device to a stop, Jack looked about the same as he usually did. His face was stern and unwavering but held pride and affection just as well, yet a deep scar divided his features.

Angela moved her finger across the top of Jack's scar. "That's interesting," she said with an investigative look on her face.

Jack opened his eyes. "Hmmm?"

Angela broke from her curious trance momentarily. "Oh, nothing," she said dismissively, "Your scar is just a bit deeper than I imagined." She continued to run her fingertip along the trench in Jack's face. Her soft finger could feel every crack in Jack's skin. The unyielding ridges skimmed the tip of Angela's finger as she slowly pressed along the scar, and her eyes unknowingly followed the crevice down Jack's face. Her hand lingered.

Then Jack caught sight of Angela. As her fingers rolled over his face, she had the most complacent look. Obviously Angela had taken her time getting ready this morning because her face looked pristine. Her eyes were shimmering, her cheeks were rosy, and her lips were supple. Jack almost compulsively said her name, "Angela."

The doctor was startled by Jack's voice. Her hand quickly recoiled, and Angela caressed it like she had been wounded. Suddenly her face became vehemently hot. Her skin writhed as Angela felt the full force of her embarrassment.

The red tones that climbed from Angela's neckline to her cheeks did not dissuade Jack's eyes, however. That precious innocence written upon Angela's face was more beautiful than any piece of jewelry or cosmetic.

Without saying a word, Angela shot up from the bed and stamped toward the door. She squashed her eyelids shut as she winced from the shame. She could feel her heart leaping through her chest, and her hands were shaking with emotion. Jack attempted to sit up. "Angela, wait," he called. Angela turned back for a moment. Now her entire face was crimson from her neck to her forehead: even her eyes had turned bloodshot. Jack wasn't sure what to say. "I have more stitches," he said reluctantly, "Weren't you going to…"

Angela shut her eyes and turned away. "I think those scars need a bit more time, now that I think about it," Angela rushed her words. "I've got to go." She stepped out of the door and paused for a second. Her head turned to the side like she was about to say something, but then she walked away.

 _What was that about?_ Jack wondered, _This sort of behavior is very unusual for Angela. I hope she's alright._ Jack was shocked by the rawness of his emotions. When Angela pulled away, he felt like the sun had been snuffed out on a joyous summer day. Confusion boiled within him. _What's wrong with me?_ he thought, _How can I let myself think like this?_

Then Jack heard the main door of the apartment swing shut. _She's gone,_ he noted. Jack could hardly restrain himself as he swung his legs out from under the covers on the bed and lowered his toes into the carpeting below. The delicate softness of a thousand little knolls of fluff met the rough exterior of Jack's calloused soles. Jack braced himself for the inevitable pain that accompanied the use of his leg muscles, but undenounced to him, his legs were in perfect working condition.

Jack looked at his legs in disbelief. He had not once had an extensive recovery period in his time leading Overwatch: nano technology coupled with Jack's hardened determination made certain of that. Nevertheless, Jack was amazed to find his critical systems in such sublime shape. He could walk; he could talk; he could think. Jack definitely wasn't scar free, but at most it seemed he contracted minor radiation poisoning. Jack let a muffled laugh escape. _Good genetics_ , he thought.

Now that Jack realized his full capacity, his desire to investigate only increased. He stepped into the adjacent bathroom and flipped the lights on. Jack eyed himself in the mirror. He was wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of navy blue boxer shorts. Thinking about how he got into these duds was a paradox for another day. At the moment Jack wanted to see just how damaged his body had become. He lifted his shirt and saw several large stitching ribbons running along his ribs complemented by numerous other cuts and scrapes over his entire abdomen. Surprisingly, Jack could no longer decipher which scars were old and which were new, excluding the obviously new ones. He let his shirt fall. What a sorry specimen he must have been when Angela first found him. Now he looked old and weathered like a military relic. Jack shook his head at the thought and left the bathroom to avoid dissecting his fragility any further.

Next, Jack wanted to find out just what Dr. Zeigler was doing here. He entered the main room and was astonished by the disarray. Angela must have been pressing her limitations if she wouldn't bother to organize her documents. Jack stepped to the low coffee table and took a paper in his hand. He read, "Nanobiotic technology has made great strides in the past few decades thanks to the likes of the Doctor Angela Zeigler…" It seemed odd for Angela to read such a reflexive article, so Jack read on. "Although these technologies have opened new frontiers of advancement in the medical field, the effects of nanobiotics on the recipient's body is not fully understood. In particular radiation appears to have an adverse result on the effectiveness of nanobiotic tech." Jack continued to skim the article, but eventually he got to this line, "Nano technology is rendered meaningless in the presence of radiation and its residual effects."

Jack finished the article; he had plenty to think about. He sat down on the sofa and briefly skimmed through a few other papers, but soon it became clear that Angela was researching improvements for her own nano technology. Apparently, the tech was unstable in certain conditions, and though many studies had found similar conclusions, no researcher was able to develop an improvement. The documents certainly reinforced the idea that treating a person affected by heavy radiation or residual activity with nano technology was counterproductive. Now Jack was even more confused. He didn't know if Angela had discovered a breakthrough or if some other factor was at work. Jack couldn't adjust to the reality of being alive and well, but Jack was somehow alive and well. Not having any concrete information, Jack tossed the article onto the table and began perusing the other documents strewn about.

As Jack overlooked the kitchen for any titbits of information, he accidentally knocked a few papers off the counter. He reached down to grab them but instead noticed the crumpled pages resting in the trash bin. These scandalous secrets had not been properly disposed. Jack took a few of the crushed paper balls and flattened them out on the counter. A quick scan revealed that these pages were letters from institutions looking to acquire Angela's talents. They weren't offers to gloss over either; Angela had to have serious plans if these letters were so insignificant.

 _What is Angela thinking?_ Jack thought, _Didn't she have plans to leave the country not too long ago? Why is she still here, and what are her plans now?_ Jack paced around the kitchen thinking, and then he noticed a laptop sitting on the end of the counter. If Jack's morality was still intact at this point, he would need to shatter that boundary for this next act of spying.

Jack opened the laptop and to his surprise found it active and unlocked. The desktop of the computer was neat in contrast to the countertops in the apartment, but one file attracted Jack's eye. The name of it was "Calculations and Structures for Nano-R". Jack opened the text file and saw page after page of bizarre mathematical operations and molecular structures. Just skimming the file wasn't enough to determine the purpose of the diagrams, but at the end of the file there was an annotation. Jack didn't have the best knowledge of the German language, so after quickly running the lines through a translator, he read this, "Writing this down because I am about to pass out. Athena kindly transferred me the rest of the data, and now that I have isolated the weaknesses in the original structuring, I am only hours away from finalizing the nanobiotics. If this works, no one can know. Lock the damn computer and don't tell anyone, not even Jack. It's too powerful to be in anyone else's hands." Seeing that the document was clearly important, Jack attempted to make sense of the algorithms. In the end he only provided himself a headache.

Jack stepped away from the laptop and rested on the sofa. His head pounded while he struggled to comprehend Angela's work. Her secrecy only compounded his pain. Angela had done something that obviously involved him, but he couldn't know the details. He felt slighted after so many years of working together. Jack gripped his forehead as another wave of pressure flooded his mind. He let his eyes rest for a moment, but soon he was unconscious.

Before Jack could pry out any other secrets, Angela returned home from her errands. She was humming happily as she walked in the door, and she dropped some bags in the kitchen. When Angela came into the main room, she was startled to see Jack resting on the sofa.

"Jack!" she cried, "What are you doing!? How did you get out here!?"

"Hmmm," Jack rolled his shoulders as Angela's voice brought him awake. "Oh, Angela, you're back."

Angela placed her hands on her hips and gave Jack a stern glare. "How long have you been able to walk, Jack?"

"Well," Jack bit his lip, "I'd say since a little before I was two."

"Ugh," Angela moaned, "Real funny. How many other secrets are you hiding from me?"

"Not as many as you," Jack replied. His glassy eyes had no focus. He sat up hoping to correct his vision.

Angela crossed her arms. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on Angela," Jack said, "You haven't been up front with me at all. You won't tell me why you brought me here; you haven't even mentioned all these employment offers." He rustled the papers on the table. "And after searching through your laptop, I can't even imagine what else you're hiding."

Angela's face went pale. "Oh no," she whimpered, her hand covering her mouth, "You weren't supposed to know."

"Angela," Jack stood up and confronted her, "What's going on?"

Fear flushed through Angela's body. She could hardly face him. "Jack, I…" she stammered, "I can't."

The muscles in Jack's hands tensed. His brow pinched together. "You're going to have to try," he said.

"No, you don't understand," Angela hurriedly said. She threw her hands at him, pleading. "It's better if nobody knows."

"So what? You don't trust me?" His eyes continued to scrutinize her. "After all we've been through… I kept your technology as far away from weapons as possible, and you can't trust me with a secret no one else knows about."

"I do trust you!" Angela replied. Blood filled her cheeks and went into her eyes.

"Then tell me!" Jack said.

"You don't want to know!" Angela shouted.

Jack frowned. "No, you're just afraid of what I'll do when I find out."

Angela was stunned. Morrison was far too proficient at reading people. "Of course I am…"

"Why?" Jack said, "Am I really such a wildcard?"

Angela blinked twice and then puffed up somewhat. "What do you want me to say, Jack?" Her voice sharpened. "That I can't stand the thought of you being angry with me?"

"I want the truth," he said.

"Well, here it is," Angela said, with tentative defiance, "Two days ago your body was cold and dead."

Jack felt his pulse increase, but despite that his disposition began to soften. "Go on."

"I'm sure you've figured out the majority, but just for clarity's sake, you standing here is a miracle, albeit one of scientific nature."

This latest revelation wasn't at all startling to Jack. In fact, it fit quite well with his revamped life. He had lost his occupation, lost his mission, lost all responsibility, and lost his life, and now everything Jack possessed was a courtesy from Angela. As a regimented man of duty, this idea wasn't easy to swallow. Uncertainties crept into his mind. His very life was a question mark. This instance he was living through could be a world-shaking anomaly on the fabric of the universe. Jack felt his skin crawl. His jaw slid from side to side, and his eyes lost focus as Jack contemplated the meaning for his existence.

Angela couldn't withhold her concerns for long. She sighed. "Jack, say something!"

Jack's eyelids sank. "So you've cured death?"

"Hardly," Angela responded. She fidgeted nervously attempting to explain her miraculous discovery. "It's more like screwing the cap back onto a water bottle. As long as the bottle is intact, the cap has meaning."

Jack shook his head. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

Angela looked pained. "I…" she started, "I didn't want you to know I had done something so unscrupulous." Her face turned down choked with guilt.

Jack huffed. "I need to think about this," he grumbled. His hand grazed his hot, pounding head. "I have a headache. I'm going to bed." He started walking away.

"Jack, wait." Angela reached out and touched Morrison's shoulder.

His head swiveled around. His sharp eyes held more contempt than Jack wanted to acknowledge. "We'll talk more later," he said. Jack sped into his room and shut the door behind him.

With his increasingly heavy head, Jack plummeted into the covers on his bed. He allowed the warm, pulsing to overtake his body, and Jack quickly returned to sleep. The bitter thoughts that possessed him moments ago soon completely dissipated. Instead, his mind was concerned with his next step. Jack's responsibilities lagged behind with Overwatch, yet how he was to fulfill those responsibilities was unclear. He could be accountable to the authorities, or he could seek justice outside of the law. Further still he could simply forget about Overwatch and live a peaceable life.

That chaotic mental state ushered Jack into a hellish dreamscape not unlike the one he had visited the night previous. Jack witnessed his surroundings; ashes and embers spread out for miles in every directions. The very space on which he walked was lumps of ash. He sweat as a formidable heat rose from the buried coals. The wispy air curdled the nose with toxic fumes of sulfur and smoke.

Finding the sights and smells to be displeasing, Jack scowled. Every breath invited fire into his body. Then Jack heard a tiny yet familiar voice behind him. This seemed the unlikeliest of places to have a meeting with a child, but his ears were not mistaken. When he turned around, little Celia was staring up at him with great concern.

"Are you okay?" Jack asked. He knelt down, checking the girl for any signs of injury; he found none.

"I am fine," Celia calmly replied, "Have you found the bad guys?" She cocked her head to the side curiously.

Jack was buffeted by the question. Giving it some thought, he gave the girl another look. She was wearing what looked like pajamas with little monkeys patterned over the fabric, and in her arms she cradled a friendly teddy bear. Celia was surprisingly clean for someone surviving in the present conditions. "What bad guys?" Jack asked.

Celia pointed to the fields of ash and scorched earth. "The ones who did this," she stated, giving Jack a pouty face.

Jack laughed. "Well, I've got some ideas, but I'm not sure I'll ever find the ones responsible for all this." He patted Celia's head.

"So you're giving up?" Celia said with disgust.

Jack sighed. "My time is up. The world is a bit more complicated than you might imagine."

Celia threw her hand down tightening them into fists. "No it's not!" she insisted. Her face turned to an ugly frown. "You just have to figure out how far you're willing to go to do the right thing."

Puzzled, Jack glanced at the girl before shaking his head. Those words were far too insightful to have come from a child. As he held his eyes shut, a new scent entered Jack's senses. This one was far more pleasant and quickly overpowered all the others. Jack swore he could smell fresh tea and the sweet aromas of baking. He opened his eyes.

Jack was now sitting at a well prepared table, and before him there was a cup of tea. He couldn't believe it. A moment ago he had been talking with a little girl in a wasteland, and now he was living like a first class citizen. He stared at the steaming liquid in his teacup.

"Jack." A deeper, more accentuated voice spoke to Jack.

He looked up from his tea. Sitting across from Jack was Ana Amari. She looked young and in perfect condition. "Ana?" Jack said, "Is that you?"

Ana's lips creased into a smile. "I'm glad to see you're getting along without me."

As a grin sprawled across Jack's face, he shook his head in disbelief. "I sure could use you right now," he said, "Things have gotten… complicated." Jack rested his arms on the table and rotated his teacup slightly.

Ana huffed derisively. "Jack, Jack… what are you doing? You're making things more difficult than they need to be."

Jack looked up from the bubbly beverage before him. "What?"

Ana sighed. "Stop playing dumb to your own emotions. You know Overwatch wasn't going to last forever as well as I do, and now it's dead. You need to forget about whatever attachments you have to the organization and live your life."

"Overwatch was my life," Jack replied, "I had to watch it shrivel up in my hands only to have it crushed by my enemies." Jack took a sip of tea. "I don't want to go back," he said, "But how am I supposed to go on living when everything I've fought for has been destroyed?"

Ana shook her head. "Jack, you're so much more than a Strike Commander." She reached across the table and placed her hand gently against his cheek. "There's a man under there who has hopes, and loves, and passions." Ana slowly retracted her hand. "Overwatch was just a tool, a nice way to distribute our abilities, but now that it's gone, the world doesn't expect anything from you. Remember who you are Jack; live for yourself for once."

Jack bowed his head. "I don't even remember who I was before… What can I possibly do?"

Ana smiled softly. "You'll remember," she said, "Just listen to what's in your heart, Jack."

Angela blew the steamy wisps off of her warm mug. Sitting idly on the couch, she was reflecting on the transpired events which led to this circumstance. Naive or not, she had thought it better to let Jack believe what he would rather than be forthright. The deception was not an easy task however. She had been amazingly careless and had to receive the due punishment. She chose to lie, but she couldn't hide the truth, and now she couldn't stop blaming herself. After finally escaping the regulations of Overwatch, she had to mess up one of the few relationships she had left.

The television was abuzz with discouraging voices. Angela didn't pay them much heed, but she wanted to know what was going on in the outside world. The news reporter continued, "The International Justice Commission has finalized its investigation at the Overwatch Swiss Headquarters blast site. While reports have confirmed the explosion was highly radioactive, the IJC is still reluctant to comment on the cause of the blast or who might have committed this attack. However, our analysts have been quick to point out that Overwatch had many enemies including the notorious Talon group, which has been increasingly active lately, and other shadow governments yet to be disclosed by the UN."

The affairs of the world were like the buzzing of a fly in Angela's ears. The trivial concerns of the UN and such could not compare to more immediate matters. _There are wars happening,_ she thought, _people are dying, and the people best equipped for the job have been tossed to the wind. Tracer, Winston, Rinehardt, Torby, Jack…_

Angela stopped herself mid thought. The chaos of the past few weeks had finally caught up to her. Assaulted by Talon, betrayed by Blackwatch, disowned by the UN, and separated from her allies, life couldn't get much worse, but Angela had found a way. Now she wondered if Jack still had any shred of regard left for her. She cradled her face in her arms as the skin surrounding her eyes tightened. Angela could feel the sensation of tears was just outside of her reach. Sometimes moments are too grievous to be expressed through crying.

Then Jack suddenly shuffled into the room. He was throwing on a brown jacket as he walked towards the apartment door. He glanced briefly at Angela, inhaling as he did, but quickly refocused on the exit.

Angela spun around to see what Jack was doing. "Jack?" She had to know that she still had a friend. The ex-commander tried to avert his eyes, but he wasn't moving very quickly. Seeing that he was unresponsive, Angela stood up and followed him. "Jack, where are you going?"

Morrison cranked his head. "I'm leaving. I can't stay here anymore," he said.

At this, Angela rushed to him. "What?" she stammered, "That doesn't make any sense." Her outreached hand barely caught Jack's arm as he grabbed the door. "I know this isn't easy for you, but you need time to process how you feel…" Angela's voice diminished as her reasoning mingled with her desperation.

Metal squeaked against Jack's skin as he clenched the door knob in his fist. Shaking his head he sighed. He let go of the handle and turned around. The blue hues of his eyes locked with Angela's own. Angela felt the air in her lungs freeze. Jack's expression was intently serious, almost frighteningly so, but he was not angry.

"I know exactly how I feel," Jack said.

Angela continued pleading. "Jack, please don't… leave…"

He rolled his shoulders back and frowned for a second. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner but… I love you, Angela."

"Tsh," Angela nearly sneered at the thought. _Jack Morrison loves me? What a ridiculous idea,_ she thought, _I mean, he's more than ten years older than me. What possible affection could he have for me?_ But she couldn't deny the countless instances of care and affection Jack had bestowed upon her over the years, from protecting her research to covering her sleeping body. In her heart, that's what she wanted, a person to care for her and love her and suffer with her. Jack wasn't just the man of her dreams but the man in her dreams. Angela felt the warmth of her heart bubble over, and she began to cry. She shook her head vigorously as her breath released haphazardly.

"But I can't stay," Jack continued. He looked on her so dotingly. "Not when we're so different." Persevering through his words, he huffed. "I have to fight, and you… I know you cannot. We can't possibly be together." As each word escaped his mouth, Jack's tone grew heavier.

Angela's eyes couldn't keep still. She tried facing him, but her gaze wouldn't hold. Angela awkwardly leaned into Jack. Resting her head on Jack's shoulder, she nestled her nose against his neck. Angela barely squeaked out the three little words, "I love you," each breath blooming over Jack's neck.

Jack almost choked when he heard Angela's tender voice. He clamped his jaw together and squelched his eyes shut. So many years of tension were broken, and peace was espoused in learning the truth. Jack probed with his face until his nose met Angela's. His arms came around her, and he held her close. Like opposing ends of a magnet, their lips effortlessly came together. Their passion met with gasps of joy and tears of relief.

As they pressed into one another, Angela felt practically delirious. Her pulse and temperature were rising in leaps and bounds. When she opened her eyes, Jack's blue beams still gawked at her. She abducted every mote of him releasing that energy in a sparkling smile. Her fingers gently grazed against his cheek. "You can't go anywhere now," she said laughing.

Jack caught the smile. "I've spoiled you too much, Angela."

Intoxicated, Angela pelted Jack's neckline with kisses. "Stay," she said, "stay."

Jack could feel his own pulse rising. "That's not a good idea," he replied. Angela was nearly pushing him into the door.

Angela nuzzled the curves of Jack's face. "Don't you dare leave me," she said, "That's an order."

Resisting every inclination of his body, Jack pushed Angela away, putting a little space between them. He looked just as pained as she did. "Sorry, doc," he said, "This time, prevention is the best treatment."

Tears hotter than lava rolled down Angela's cheeks. "Jack," she whimpered, "You can't… I love you!"

Jack broke down as well. "I love you too. That's why I can't stay. I don't want you to have to witness the thing I'm becoming." He watched helplessly as Angela cradled her disfigured face. "I'm sorry," was all he said before walking out the door.

His own face flushed with blood and emotion, Jack could barely breathe as he stepped out the door. This wasn't an easy choice to make or a simple path to walk, but it had to be done. Like a band aid, the faster the deed was done the sooner life could return to normal, if there was such a thing. Truthfully, Jack wanted nothing more than to turn back, walk through the door, tie his arms around Angela, and never let her go. But Jack was a man tied to his duty; there was no rest while the war for earth raged on. The powers orchestrating Overwatch's demise ran free causing grief and sowing strife wherever they went. Jack was tied to the conflict, not by commanders or villains, but by the mission he had set in his heart. He was a soldier.


End file.
